I can't help but to stop

and stare.

The lines,

the crease,

the age is our lease.

Each smile,

every laugh

to every person

as they pass.

You don't discriminate,

you don't even hate,

the lines you force

on someone's face.

A simple hello,

a sweet ending,

quiet animosity,

silly jealousy,

lines, creases,

wrinkles, spots

leaving age at first

in small spots.

I see you there

on his face.

His smile, his embrace.

You leave your mark.

You leave it not for sadness.

You leave it not for happiness.

You leave it for remembrance.

The fragrance of her,

the smile of the kid,

the pain from the sin,

the daily walk or

the nightly stalk.

I see you there

and remember where

I saw you first

and stopped to stare.