Golden Vanity

[baddad]

Etched upon my face with time
These fleshy lines, chilled seasons cut
through hearts alone
And who but I bespies truth's grandeur,
reflect sure wretchedness
My face's fate

Noble does not whine or err
of softly pliant whims and vagary
Though life battles wits and claw
expressions lifted deny true form
Soul is life perception chosen
resisting stormy battered fate

A smiles armor does protect
all life is golden views to some
Yet though hidden pain is best
a lonliness reviewed near death
Does finally etch upon a face....
truth not sown for all concerned
but only compensates the one

Quick mirror of reflections true
an end with joy no matter what
This life lead full of no regrets
does polish countenance for the best
And only now these etchings seem
transformed in joy for my own truth