Dusted

The skin on my knuckles is caked in dirt, at least what hasn't been torn away.
The skin on my fingertips ceased to hurt when it disappeared yesterday.
The skin on my knees could spill no more blood being bent and steady so long.
The skin on my teeth was tired of mud and gave up trying to be strong.

On a long enough time line the figure is zero for all human life expectancy.
On a long enough time line every bad idea will make it out past pregnancy.
On a long enough time line everyone falls down on their knees for a god.
On a long enough time line all of the faithful decide to live in fraud.

By the end of the day, all of the breathing will end in some sort of smile.
By the end of the day, they'll all be wondering what happened to their little while.
By the end of the day, you can sit in judgment of all that cross your path.
By the end of the day, you can be with the righteous or satisfied in your wrath.