Tapping two fingers in cream,
Anti-wrinkle it promises,
I smooth it over
The familiar surface
Of my face
Caressing with gentle strokes
Lines that reveal years
As if with a little kindness
They might disappear
How many times
Have I faced this face?
Trying to reason her sorrows
Quell her zeal.
And now these wrinkles that show
All the years of woe
And a cream that promises youth
But can never wipe away
The memories of grief,
Carved permanent and deep,
On this tired face
Where time has left its lasting trace.