Post by darkness0within on Dec 5, 2020 14:13:13 GMT -6
Ode to the plastic woman.
I remember once I had a friend,
Who wanted her sweet face amend,
To be under knife she did arrange,
But to me it did seem rather strange.
So in she went on appointed day,
To take such tiny lines away,
But this was only just the start,
Things so wanted in her heart.
A chain of such bizarre events,
Procedures with such bills invent,
Surgeons rubbing hands with utmost glee,
To name their price, and fix their fee.
So time and again the knife she saw,
To make her breasts oh, so much more,
And take with liposuction excess bulk,
That left a sixty five-pound stick like hulk.
After all that transformation,
She asked me for my conformation,
Did she look perfect in her every part?
But what I saw just broke my heart.
What was natural had long gone,
This plastic woman in just in a thong,
A skinny rake with king sized boobs,
Her beauty had gone right down the tubes.
I know gravity is so unkind,
To so many external parts it finds,
But is it worth the cost and pain?
To try and look sixteen again.
Perhaps I am behind the times,
But I never see a woman’s lines,
What does it matter anyway?
Oh plastic woman of today.
Darkness.
I remember once I had a friend,
Who wanted her sweet face amend,
To be under knife she did arrange,
But to me it did seem rather strange.
So in she went on appointed day,
To take such tiny lines away,
But this was only just the start,
Things so wanted in her heart.
A chain of such bizarre events,
Procedures with such bills invent,
Surgeons rubbing hands with utmost glee,
To name their price, and fix their fee.
So time and again the knife she saw,
To make her breasts oh, so much more,
And take with liposuction excess bulk,
That left a sixty five-pound stick like hulk.
After all that transformation,
She asked me for my conformation,
Did she look perfect in her every part?
But what I saw just broke my heart.
What was natural had long gone,
This plastic woman in just in a thong,
A skinny rake with king sized boobs,
Her beauty had gone right down the tubes.
I know gravity is so unkind,
To so many external parts it finds,
But is it worth the cost and pain?
To try and look sixteen again.
Perhaps I am behind the times,
But I never see a woman’s lines,
What does it matter anyway?
Oh plastic woman of today.
Darkness.
