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Writer's pictureDiane DiCola

The Wrinkles of Time

When did I pass from crowned to crone

My subsequent value overthrown


Searching for meaning, thirsty for care

I must be invisible, no one is aware


They've abandoned my past, no future assured

No hint of a promise, no hope for reward


There's smoke on the mirror, no life in the wine

The clocks have stopped ticking, I can't see the time


A new age is dawning, I cannot deny

I try to fit in, somehow I get by


Yet whatever it's worth in this day and time

What I remember I'll treasure in kind


Our youth, an illusion, this truth I have seen

Whether maiden or mother, pray God save your queen

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