I am in my sixties, and I’m allowed to have lines.
On my face.
On my hands.
But you can only see the ones on the outside.
Don’t forget there are lines on my heart too,
Marks written across my soul.
All life’s traumas and headaches.
The work, the long hours of commuting.
Stress of mortgages and loans.
Worry for loved ones.
But if you were to look inside of me,
I hope what you see the most
Are the smile lines.
Because there has always been love in my life.