Beautiful Strangers
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A Poem
Smile lines, like a charcoal portrait, peak through. Overshadowing the youth that once was. Because nothing lasts forever. We are strangers to ourselves. Looking into a mirror, the gray strands atop your head wave like a new friend. The kind you only want to see in passing. Chit-chatting briefly as you both go your separate ways. These days, the heaviness of your bones becomes noticed, they hold you up as you try to hold onto you. Or what’s left. No one told us, we’d wake up one day and barely recognize ourselves. We’d barely understand ourselves. Carefully, revamp ourselves. We’d blossom like flowers. Into beautiful strangers.