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Fingerprints

Fingerprints of age,
Imprinted on its skin.
A mirror to its past,
Without praise or sin.
Its eyes are rusted,
By the shadow of time,
Wisdom is hidden,
Boundless and sublime.
Our secrets are lost,
To a scar we can’t see,
Buried in the fingerprints,
Of a humble tree.



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moderndayEmilyDickinsonThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
today at 1:01 pm:
So beautiful!!! You're poem is absolutely wonderful!!! I'm cheering for you!!! I wholeheartedly agree with you, my friend!!! Thank you, for sharing this!!!
 
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