THE MAKE UP ARTIST

She staggers battered and bruised, neglected but subjected
A one time beauty, an enigma full of grace
But now a simpleton,a travesty admired by dogs and spied upon by scavengers
As she trudge on in line with debris leaving her shanties

Alas beckoned upon by a stranger, so charming but too good to be true
She enquires, are you another "sweetsayer" with vision 2030?
In defiance admist a covered nose saved from rotten breadth
He says I am a Make-up artist. A maker of beauties and  a moulder of youths

Lets go to my parlour of dreams
Let me wash the mud off your feet
Treat you like a queen so nice and sweet
Restore your youthfulness and bring the world under your feet
Put food on your table while i watch u sleep

She feign a sigh and wonder
Have met this stranger four years ago
With charming smile and lips glossed with blood of dreams  aborted at foetus
He asks if I'll need a manicure or pedicure
But will it cure the madness of of poverty and battered ego?

Follow me to my parlour of dreams he says
And let me watch away dirt off your feet