The Face of Time

Like cotton?

Nay brittle like hay.

Smooth and red like a cherry?

There is no such flush to wash the rust of clay.

Then, well trimmed and elegant?

Nope dull and starved with hatred.

There is no such beauty in her then?

Aye but there is...and it's nothing that will be taken away-

With Time.

 

This poem is about: 
Our world
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