Everyday you wore a fake face
Over your real features to replace
What you always felt was a trace
Of highly imperfected space.
It didn't stop there,
Since you hated your hair,
Your skin was overly fair,
And your chest: much too bare.
So into tanning you got stuck,
And then you had a nip and tuck,
Where you let arrogant surgeons pluck
Nature away for many a buck.
All to silence people as they stare
At the new perfect body you now wear.
How dare they even try to compare
Themselves to your synthetic air.
Too bad doctors aren't that smart
To beautify your mind and heart,
For their condition is a vital part
Of the happiness you craved from the start.
This you must do on your own,
Since the amount of money you've thrown
To look like perfection's clone,
Won't matter when you end up alone.