Read every line etched on my face
That tells of the time along with the place

Where a story this old
Will not go untold

Look in my eyes that have been clearer most days
And the secrets they hold that they won't give away

The ones collected in my youth
If you must know the truth

And the hands that I have with the ache and the hurt
Arthritic most times in their twists and their turns

But still able to wave to the dead
Friends that have left

With the buckling of knees and the thinning of hair
As my hearing in and out leaves for somewhere other than here

And these brittle bones that are cold
With the shivers of old

The mirror on the wall no longer reflects my memory
Holds nothing I want nor do I care to see

Just look at this body to read
Life's story