It Gets Better

It gets better with age, that wrinkle deepens down the mouth line

To the throat, exposing your hidden strife 

It does get better, with coping, learning, pretending

The smiles, leave an impression 

A ghost of a memory, fond, 

Close to the heart, with a rhythm

Longing for the young days

Of love. 

It does get better with the warmth in hugs 

One for each lonely soul, always craving some more

A person to make a home, a harbour to shelter the storm

The skin, flaky and dull, waned like the moon about to go down 

A whisper, time is up. 

But it does get better as you grow

At loving or loathing, it is all means to an end. 

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