The botoxed lines have smoothed away
To gods of vanity I pray
No china cracks no hair-line slits
Below eye sacks or saggy bits
In fact my face is slightly raised
It's full of pricks and numbly grazed
It seems to me I don't look great
The mirror sees my cheeks inflate
No spidery lines or crowsfoot map
My face is free of ridge or gap
Each feature too, has done a bunk
The flesh has swelled my eyes have sunk
And where my nose did once protrude
The gap where once I shoved my food
Both slipped into the bulging blob
A noseless face a lipless gob
To Botox world I'll not return
It's far too late for me to learn
When I go out I can't walk tall
That's me young Steve.. the white beach ball
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
They do say it can make you look younger. Try to stop before the gill slits appear...