I'm Superficial

Look at how much time I've wasted.
The paint is already chipping
and cuticles are overgrown.
Like a pedicure was to important.
As if my toes would
make a first impression.
All the time and money
thrown away
on hi-lights and tanning bulbs...
One to kill my brain cells,
and one to burn my insides.
Just so maybe I'd be noticed.
Bras they advertise as
"miracles"
to enhance what God only
intended to be a device for
rearing children.
Instead, they're flaunted
but it's only false advertisement.
Like the rouge on my cheeks
it appears as though I'm flush
from running when Lord knows
I can't for all the smoke I've inhaled
in bars where I thought
all these things would catch
someones attention.
You'd think I'd learned my lesson.
And I'd throw away
the 9 million beauty products
that line my bathroom cabinets unused.
The push-up bras and lacey thongs
that line the bottoms of drawers unopened.
But sometimes I think,
if I were to mix them all together
I'd conjur up a cure-all potion.
A quick fix for wrinkles, small breasts
stretch marks, perfect hair, longevity,
and weight loss.
And everyone would be beautiful
so we could pay more attention to
the little things.
Like polotics, disease, and homelessness.
If I could only find a cauldron big enough...

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