by Gwendolyn Armstrong
Written across my face,
The scornful memories of time,
Lashing whips over my brow
And at the corners of my eyes,
They now look back upon me
To see a face unrecognized.
How harsh the years have been,
Upon my skin and on my mind,
Both are frail and weary,
Decades beyond their prime.
The end is drawing nearer,
My arms too weak to climb,
This ever growing mountain,
Of the finale of a lifetime.
White Noise Zine 