I saw faces looking like masquerade,
Twerking to the rhythm of tosses made from men lips,
Their eyes are tips,
They are already made.
Blossom are caress day in day out,
Washed from worldiness given from the goddess of riches,
They thought they are titches,
Beauty like a beast painted inside out.
Ugly faces beautified with the colors of the rainbow,
Original beauty is scarce like fuel,
No resource to boost their wallet then they go for a duel,
They are invisible before there Shadow.
They paint diverse colour around the village square,
You can mistake them for mermaid,
But they are handmade,
They don’t care.
Expired beauty,
Expired bodies,
No original beauty.
Written by
Esther Emmanuel
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Cirphrank is a pun. Web developer, content writer, 2D minimalist UI, blogger. Breathing poetry. What makes many mad makes some Philosophers, what makes others sad makes me write. A lover of tech and the arts.

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