the-locket

These wrinkles are the hands of time,The journeys I__e been onThey__e seen me through a thousand days,And ev__y victory wonThese fragile hands, With exposed bones,Are not a fearful sightBut rather, they, my faithful partners,Rocked babies through the nightThese eyes are weak, They see much less,Than yours they__e seen much moreThey__e guided me through birth, through death,Through grief, through hurt, through warThese ears can hear so very little,Yet they__e learned to listen muchThey perk up not for gossip now,But for a heart to touchThose younger often look my way,With pity looks to giveYet this old body doesn__ mean I am dying,But rather, that I have lived