Let no one deprive me of the wrinkles of my forehead.
Or the bags under my eyes.
It is the memory of the days,
Of how much I worried and cried.
Oh those tiny lines near my lips,
Show how much I laughed and how much I kissed.
The smile on my mouth,
Hides the words I didn’t say.
And the pain in my eyes,
Shadow the hurt that lies there.
These lines and these scars are mine.
And they make me beautiful.
They tell stories of,
All the hurt and the pain,
Of all the love and the gain,
Of all my victories and defeats,
And most of all,
These wrinkles …well they show you,
They show you the real me.