Skin by Philip Larkin.

Obedient daily dress,
You cannot always

keep
That unfakable young surface.
You must learn your lines –
Anger, amusement, sleep;

Those few forbidding signs
Of the continuous coarse
Sand-laden wind, time;
You must thicken, work loose
Into an old bag
Carrying a soiled name.
Parch then; be roughened; sag;

And pardon me, that I
Could find, when you were new,
No brash festivity
To wear you at, such as
Clothes are entitled to
Till the fashion changes.