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"botox" poems
A doctor's sorry for birth complication A sea of CP cases in physiotherapy centre Siblings, twins, triplets All with defects *** Advice of *** Therapy, Botox, Vision, Hearing, Ocupational, unheard names of unknown place... !!! Children I never thought existed Parents I couldn't believe laughed Joy in the eyes of kids with severe disability Waiting for acceptance but yet unknown.. Blanked eyes of a mother Whose 4 yr old child can die any day Income reduced expenditure doubled !!! *** Yet *** Optimism, Joy, Laughter, Patience, Hardwork, Belief multiplied many folds... Coz they are the chosen one God believed in them And so God sent to them The special gifts in SPECIAL KIDS... to make them SPECIAL MOMs... !!! Sparkle In Wisdom Sep 2018
0
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 9:48 AM UTC
Special child, Divine child.
my mother has blue eyes but I'm still a ****** my mother has blonde hair but I'm still a ****** my daddy is black as night but I'm still a ******* my daddy has ***** curls but I'm still a ******* I call this hash tag the struggle because to be biracial is nothing more because to be biracial is nothing less than a struggle to find who I am to find who I should be to find who I'm supposed to be i really wish they were the same person i really wish you understood hash tag the struggle but you don't and you won't so stop telling me about my good hair and stop telling about my high yellow skin and stop telling me my parents have the fever and stop staring at me when I walk in and stop trying to guess which parent is black and stop trying to guess which parent is spanish No I'm not Spanish. No I don't speak Spanish. No You CANNOT touch my hair Yes, my nose is in the air Of course I think I'm the **** Because I live my life trying to be better than women who are dark skinned ...with something I was born with ...out of my control Of course I try to flaunt my plush lips around the white girls who get botox who then become the have nots because I've stolen all the brothas hearts from the city and the boondocks See you don't even know me but you think these are my goals see I call this hash tag the struggle because nobody understands the trouble in being whole when you're given two halves that don't match to patch up one soul and you're born into a ****** up mess still expected to know and they tell you to ignore them all be yourself race should not define you but I can't even fill out two ******* boxes on a standardized test because you are only allowed to check ONE to describe you hash tag TheStruggle
0
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 8:24 PM UTC
#TheStruggle
my mother has blue eyes but I'm still a ****** my mother has blonde hair but I'm still a ****** my daddy is black as night but I'm still a ******* my daddy has ***** curls but I'm still a ******* I call this hash tag the struggle because to be biracial is nothing more because to be biracial is nothing less than a struggle to find who I am to find who I should be to find who I'm supposed to be i really wish they were the same person i really wish you understood hash tag the struggle but you don't and you won't so stop telling me about my good hair and stop telling about my high yellow skin and stop telling me my parents have the fever and stop staring at me when I walk in and stop trying to guess which parent is black and stop trying to guess which parent is spanish No I'm not Spanish. No I don't speak Spanish. No You CANNOT touch my hair Yes, my nose is in the air Of course I think I'm the **** Because I live my life trying to be better than women who are dark skinned ...with something I was born with ...out of my control Of course I try to flaunt my plush lips around the white girls who get botox who then become the have nots because I've stolen all the brothas hearts from the city and the boondocks See you don't even know me but you think these are my goals see I call this hash tag the struggle because nobody understands the trouble in being whole when you're given two halves that don't match to patch up one soul and you're born into a ****** up mess still expected to know and they tell you to ignore them all be yourself race should not define you but I can't even fill out two ******* boxes on a standardized test because you are only allowed to check ONE to describe you hash tag TheStruggle
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55
Botox on the high street A jab for flabby jowls. Is it any wonder people Exist only in their heads? Social media selfies taken From above in unnatural light. Is it still shocking people Hate the boring everyday? It's not easy to like yourself In a world obsessed with image.
0
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 10:38 AM UTC
Selfie Obsessed
Society is so focused on being flawless. Perfect. No one is flawless, not even Beyonce. We will forget who we are on the inside, and soon that won’t even matter because the physical appearance is the main priority. Women these days are spending so much effort trying to look perfect, which hurts. Pretty hurts. Society is expecting women to look perfect, otherwise people will judge. ‘Perfection is a disease of a nation’. The showbiz industry is giving a negative message to the world. Photoshop is one of them. Making a celebrity look flawless is fooling the world into thinking we must look like that. Spending so much money on clothes, hair etc. but we don’t need to focus on that because all that matters is on the inside, which most people don’t seem to see anymore. We are constantly getting the messages in our mind that we must be flawless, and sooner or later, this is a disease. Some of us can’t take it anymore, which leads to anorexia, bulimia, insecurities, and issues with body image. Pain also takes over our minds, which is ridiculous. Even celebrities have gone through this because in our naïve little minds, we are thinking we have to be pretty. There is so much pressure it takes over our minds, and that’s the only thing we think about. We look into the mirror despising ourselves, because we are who we are. Society has created us into thinking there’s a certain way we must look, which there is not. Our flaws make us who we are, makes us positively different. Unique. But we aren’t allowed to think that way because the media isn’t allowing us to. When people change, they are only cheating on themselves because media displays images of what we should and shouldn’t look like. It’s not their fault though. They can’t help it. Changing, like getting botox or body implant is only giving us a masquerade. It’s a mask to hide our real, inner beauty, which the media has taken the idea away from us, to become people who we actually aren’t. And in the end, we know that pretty hurts. a.a.
0
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 6:54 PM UTC
this is my interpretation of pretty hurts by beyonce
Society is so focused on being flawless. Perfect. No one is flawless, not even Beyonce. We will forget who we are on the inside, and soon that won’t even matter because the physical appearance is the main priority. Women these days are spending so much effort trying to look perfect, which hurts. Pretty hurts. Society is expecting women to look perfect, otherwise people will judge. ‘Perfection is a disease of a nation’. The showbiz industry is giving a negative message to the world. Photoshop is one of them. Making a celebrity look flawless is fooling the world into thinking we must look like that. Spending so much money on clothes, hair etc. but we don’t need to focus on that because all that matters is on the inside, which most people don’t seem to see anymore. We are constantly getting the messages in our mind that we must be flawless, and sooner or later, this is a disease. Some of us can’t take it anymore, which leads to anorexia, bulimia, insecurities, and issues with body image. Pain also takes over our minds, which is ridiculous. Even celebrities have gone through this because in our naïve little minds, we are thinking we have to be pretty. There is so much pressure it takes over our minds, and that’s the only thing we think about. We look into the mirror despising ourselves, because we are who we are. Society has created us into thinking there’s a certain way we must look, which there is not. Our flaws make us who we are, makes us positively different. Unique. But we aren’t allowed to think that way because the media isn’t allowing us to. When people change, they are only cheating on themselves because media displays images of what we should and shouldn’t look like. It’s not their fault though. They can’t help it. Changing, like getting botox or body implant is only giving us a masquerade. It’s a mask to hide our real, inner beauty, which the media has taken the idea away from us, to become people who we actually aren’t. And in the end, we know that pretty hurts. a.a.
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3
Off she went all dressed up to meet the guy she swiped left upon. Five feet 10 his profile said but that's where all the lies began! In she walked in her killer heels, eyes wide and bright to look for him. But not a sign of him to see had he stood her up? How dare he! Then at the bar worst for wear she saw his face and balding head. How had he aged so much, so soon from the photos that made her swoon. Well the truth aired and shots were fired, Napoleon's descendant had clearly lied! The CEO of a successful business would be up at 5 for the newspaper deliveries. His holiday home was a caravan, in the **** of Wales where no one went. His hair had gone south long ago and his belly was chasing it now as well. But in all of this, had she lied? Was she 48 or 55? Had those lips been rendered too? With botox and the wrinkles smoothed. At 48 or 55 that dress had some riples inside. The parts Spanx can't control, where age and love handles roll. She stayed they drank. Then drank again and laughed and talked of other things. They danced made shapes for all to see like watching a form of epilepsy. They left at one her shoes in hand, holes in her tights, lipstick smeared upon his cheek and a room to find to seal the deal. Promises made to meet again and drink and dance and meet their friends. Next week he was sat at the very same bar, watching the door for her enterance! She? Oh no, nowhere to be seen. Across the town at another scene. This time an accountant, chartered too! But we all know it isn't true. Fairytale endings nowhere to be seen. Just nights of ****** and living the dream. All in all is this all that they want? Repeating the cycle over again. With another fool in fancy dress? Viewed from the bottom of an empty glass.
0
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 8:49 PM UTC
Another fool in fancy dress
Off she went all dressed up to meet the guy she swiped left upon. Five feet 10 his profile said but that's where all the lies began! In she walked in her killer heels, eyes wide and bright to look for him. But not a sign of him to see had he stood her up? How dare he! Then at the bar worst for wear she saw his face and balding head. How had he aged so much, so soon from the photos that made her swoon. Well the truth aired and shots were fired, Napoleon's descendant had clearly lied! The CEO of a successful business would be up at 5 for the newspaper deliveries. His holiday home was a caravan, in the **** of Wales where no one went. His hair had gone south long ago and his belly was chasing it now as well. But in all of this, had she lied? Was she 48 or 55? Had those lips been rendered too? With botox and the wrinkles smoothed. At 48 or 55 that dress had some riples inside. The parts Spanx can't control, where age and love handles roll. She stayed they drank. Then drank again and laughed and talked of other things. They danced made shapes for all to see like watching a form of epilepsy. They left at one her shoes in hand, holes in her tights, lipstick smeared upon his cheek and a room to find to seal the deal. Promises made to meet again and drink and dance and meet their friends. Next week he was sat at the very same bar, watching the door for her enterance! She? Oh no, nowhere to be seen. Across the town at another scene. This time an accountant, chartered too! But we all know it isn't true. Fairytale endings nowhere to be seen. Just nights of ****** and living the dream. All in all is this all that they want? Repeating the cycle over again. With another fool in fancy dress? Viewed from the bottom of an empty glass.
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25
My nandos bone my sweet chocolate, when I think of you my heart goes jigijigi like a rail way line, my slavit, you always put a smile on my face, my fishy bone, my sourish munch munch chocolate, you make me whole each time I look at you, and aah my deep voice will go singing, 'cause this undying kush kush love is now not fading, My sweet honey bee, you buzz without being stingy, oh my kush kush babe, 'ME LA VIEW' so well, from the botox of my heart, oh my KFC bone, you are tasty by smile, I love you so quickly. My dove, oh my sweety sour smoothies I love you so tree much, that my breathe gets taken away, but my heart await your touch. My kush kush babe, Me la view till death comes.
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Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 12:30 PM UTC
MY KUSH KUSH BABE
What happens ____ to space______ between us This is the human race Ah, Vey? Just pray Overly smitten But not seeing   clearly picture-prey He or she runs!! Little darlings here comes the sun* The lime doing the time Falling trees of coconut Feeling- overloved Deviant artist splat coconut milk No Security Cat comfort box So out of recession Killer fox______ Chocolatey coconut Cleanse my mind detox Almond Joy concession Rise up Face Botox He cannot read you Haywire always wired up his words Hurried Hazelnut coffee if you mind Over-sugared Increased brain functions bitter rinds So commercialized The Cocoa Puffs Going bananas monkey *** Lexie Vamp Vex Mr. Ed overload of Oz colors baboon Going up Air Balloon So many airheads The  Rainforest GQ  he's gone IQ ((Quarterly Neck of the woods)) Not orderly Outback Steakhouse Dinosaurs ****** Vicarious No shortcut The nervous system The fast have a drink furious Cracking a coconut Her Safe______** 6-6-6 combinations Could crack her Coconut oil neck her City Girl call her Intellectual brain Singing Gene Kelly umbrella Raining coconuts (On Overload) Strawberry Fields This will be short Yeah right forever shortcake, not any sort The trend of coconut Nearer because of you I am further She was the Brazilian Nut With her blind gut ((Coconut Houdini)) Island of Bali Beauty of Judy Somewhere so over it rainbow King Kong Hairy chest banging coconut drink slurping Of girl talk Strong New Jersey Stamina ***** of Venezuela Overload of Prima, Donna's Instant Karma going to get them Knocked them off there feet Where is my John Lennon He has the best beat
0
May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 6:58 AM UTC
Overload Of Coconut
What happens ____ to space______ between us This is the human race Ah, Vey? Just pray Overly smitten But not seeing   clearly picture-prey He or she runs!! Little darlings here comes the sun* The lime doing the time Falling trees of coconut Feeling- overloved Deviant artist splat coconut milk No Security Cat comfort box So out of recession Killer fox______ Chocolatey coconut Cleanse my mind detox Almond Joy concession Rise up Face Botox He cannot read you Haywire always wired up his words Hurried Hazelnut coffee if you mind Over-sugared Increased brain functions bitter rinds So commercialized The Cocoa Puffs Going bananas monkey *** Lexie Vamp Vex Mr. Ed overload of Oz colors baboon Going up Air Balloon So many airheads The  Rainforest GQ  he's gone IQ ((Quarterly Neck of the woods)) Not orderly Outback Steakhouse Dinosaurs ****** Vicarious No shortcut The nervous system The fast have a drink furious Cracking a coconut Her Safe______** 6-6-6 combinations Could crack her Coconut oil neck her City Girl call her Intellectual brain Singing Gene Kelly umbrella Raining coconuts (On Overload) Strawberry Fields This will be short Yeah right forever shortcake, not any sort The trend of coconut Nearer because of you I am further She was the Brazilian Nut With her blind gut ((Coconut Houdini)) Island of Bali Beauty of Judy Somewhere so over it rainbow King Kong Hairy chest banging coconut drink slurping Of girl talk Strong New Jersey Stamina ***** of Venezuela Overload of Prima, Donna's Instant Karma going to get them Knocked them off there feet Where is my John Lennon He has the best beat
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102
**The Australian Thirteens (Black)** Your mummy took a beating Your daddy's drinking beer Your brother's lost his eyesight Your sister's disappeared The thirteens. Right on Your cousin’s sniffing petrol Your Uncle's in the cells Your buddy's begging money To spend in the hotel The thirteens. Right on And you, you make me shameful To see the state you're in I tell you live like we do But all you do is grin at The thirteens. Right on. **The Australian Thirteens (White)** Your mother’s hooked on botox Your daddy’s with the guys Your sister's anorexic She fades before your eyes The Thirteens. Right on Your daughter is a ****** Your son beats queers for fun Your priests ****** your children And you just move them on The Thirteens. Right on. You living in that city And buying all that stuff And still you look unhappy Cos you'll never have enough No The thirteens. Right on.
0
Nov 23, 2011
Nov 23, 2011 at 5:02 AM UTC
The Australian Thirteens (after Maya Angelou)
I sit holding my aching head in calloused hands experiencing ‘forlorn’ a worn soul aged beyond the calendar dreary eyes look upon the state of humanity irradiated babies trading rabies with deviants live on pay per view seeing the shape of famous faces manipulated flesh blankly posed only desperate oculars show the truth darting frantically form mirror to mirror attempting to validate existence through reflection but not like the monks in Tibet regret fills bent cheekbones spackled with Botox and raspberry jam thinning peak aligns with the occasional grey strand and I sit wishing only to see people love themselves
0
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 2:53 PM UTC
ode to plastic
Going left a smile green* bluesy* drift___ Getting out of debt The heartedly so flowery rosy ring around Gifted box Valentine Rosy I box heads over puppy tails cozy firey Love diary doing the Cutesy Bow Wow parade Those red hot lips cascades she's... the... lie... The hue (Anchor- Blue) Gotcha  "Eyes Baby blue Clue" To cross my red heart And hope not to die The Lady's finger (Godiva)   I-spy finger* Heartless Diva The fork of the road Lies of the dead ringer He points his finger Face to two face facelift? Boom-Boom___ a car crash just a dash Her beats and hearts What a crush to her     ___left Tell me sweet lies          I box gift Oh! Yes you're___ right Like the scoundrel The damsel in distress sweet morsel I sir box like spots spread Like the (Chickenpox) Hearing lies tons of squirrels Like Botox Plastic Rascals I-box ties Hallmark, I love you lies Superman Clark Outfoxed the ballpark Little lies blue big shark Smartphone I Sir bark Red Valentine love walk People are the luckiest       I- wish Close your eyes sweet lies Sweet I-Box in Trio CEO Watching "TV FIO"   Podcast little lies turn into big lies Ballot Political list Romantic cutout card lies Tell me, Little Lies he trips Electric lips music chair Open eyes full shut lips
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Feb 12, 2019
Feb 12, 2019 at 8:35 AM UTC
Lies I Sir Box
Turn on the TV and switch off your brain, tune into Jezza as you fade out the shame, point at his cattle, and laugh at their pain, forget their faces, cos’ they all look the same. Memorise headlines, forgetting you’re smart, the news screaming fear, as this world ‘falls apart’ hating your neighbour’s a good place to start, he’s likely a **** or a bomber   at heart. ‘England Expects’ is their asinine bray, as they talk up the players on ‘Match of the Day’ before posting on Twitter that one of em’s gay. ‘Oh we lost in the semis?’ Start feigning dismay. Forget about stress, skip working hard, you can lend owt till payday, or just get a new card, it doesn’t matter, if your credit is barred, say you slipped in reception, and hit your knee hard. Now! Vital News! Our cameras have spied, the markings of botox on that celebrity bride. Maybe it’s scandal, there’s no rush to decide, you’ve opened the box, and its trapped you inside.
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Mar 22, 2012
Mar 22, 2012 at 12:23 PM UTC
Do Not Adjust Your Set
She's a very **** lady is that Angelina J All the girls want lips like her but botox ain't the way It doesn't matter who you are if you're a model or a dancer You can get lucious bulbous lips with The Duct Tape Lip Enhancer This miracle of science also available online and in those "As seen on TV" shops for just $24.99 This too is guaranteed to work from the North down to the South you just take your Duct Tape Lip Enhancer and stick it over your mouth. Now unlike the Duct Tape Diet Patch the instructions don't stop there You have to press it down real hard then yank it off with a tear See not only will your lips swell up and be bulbous to the max you'll also have a smooth top lip thanks to the built in Duct Tape Lip Wax
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Jul 21, 2010
Jul 21, 2010 at 2:08 PM UTC
The Duct Tape Lip Enhancer
(almost) 60: So what? It’s only   a lonely number, A digit,   A widget   A speck        At 60: Some are happy But some, alone   Without a home   Others widowed, Divorced   or forced   into Invisibility. We are who we are. Some poor, some rich,   some think it’s a *****   Black or white, gay or straight   love or hate.   Life is what we make it Growing older has its perks. There’s Social Security,   more maturity,   AARP. Medicare,   blue hair,   Sr. Discount @ McDonald’s Replace a hip.   Botox a lip.   The knee’s arthritic,   the stomach acidic.   Life is fragile, And just like that!   Snap!   It could be gone! Meandering down the road of life. Oblivious.   Lascivious.     A relationship, or two. Stopping for a beer,   having a career, driving with the top down. Then… SLAM…. brick wall ahead….SIXTY! Screech of brakes.   For God’s sake.   Sixty’s the new forty? ********   Deal with it.   Get your head on straight.   It was Pete Townsend who penned, “I hope I die before I am old.”   Truth be told?   Older makes wiser.   Wiser makes sense.   Truth to dispense,   and still a lot to learn, Growing old “gracefully" is an art in itself. From middle age   to Sage,   we step into our skin, and rejoice   our voice   is heard   I will be thankful! I’ll thank the Lord each day! For my three gorgeous girls,   the best friends in the world,   and a job that pays the bills. Wealth, My health To love myself At 60. Sixty is **** If I lived through the sixties, I can live through the 60’s. (maybe a **** or two would help though)
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Feb 14, 2010
Feb 14, 2010 at 7:18 PM UTC
I Lived Through the Sixties/I Can Live Through the 60's
(almost) 60: So what? It’s only   a lonely number, A digit,   A widget   A speck        At 60: Some are happy But some, alone   Without a home   Others widowed, Divorced   or forced   into Invisibility. We are who we are. Some poor, some rich,   some think it’s a *****   Black or white, gay or straight   love or hate.   Life is what we make it Growing older has its perks. There’s Social Security,   more maturity,   AARP. Medicare,   blue hair,   Sr. Discount @ McDonald’s Replace a hip.   Botox a lip.   The knee’s arthritic,   the stomach acidic.   Life is fragile, And just like that!   Snap!   It could be gone! Meandering down the road of life. Oblivious.   Lascivious.     A relationship, or two. Stopping for a beer,   having a career, driving with the top down. Then… SLAM…. brick wall ahead….SIXTY! Screech of brakes.   For God’s sake.   Sixty’s the new forty? ********   Deal with it.   Get your head on straight.   It was Pete Townsend who penned, “I hope I die before I am old.”   Truth be told?   Older makes wiser.   Wiser makes sense.   Truth to dispense,   and still a lot to learn, Growing old “gracefully" is an art in itself. From middle age   to Sage,   we step into our skin, and rejoice   our voice   is heard   I will be thankful! I’ll thank the Lord each day! For my three gorgeous girls,   the best friends in the world,   and a job that pays the bills. Wealth, My health To love myself At 60. Sixty is **** If I lived through the sixties, I can live through the 60’s. (maybe a **** or two would help though)
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84
my head is a vacant lot loaded with automatic cars idling in a polluted environment full of bidding corporations run by empty businessman who take advantage of a selfish inward populace that raise  violent children who  turn off their minds to the madness,  cruelty  and cultural void at the local nightclub called "Numb" or " E-tarded"  and slobbering over drinks and beats  like the sounds of horns from a traffic jam driven by impatient animals  in a sheepfold bawing their way to the nearest vaccination center for thier imaginary  twinrix dose of  swine ***** and orange juice that skyrocket diabetes rates above google hits  and fat conservative voter polls broadcasted daily by popular media botox injections that styme creativity with  the same ****** music played over and over and over like the broken recorded rhetoric that tell us to  destructively reach out  to foreign countries while  selling ourselves out for better cars but increase profits and taxes at the same rate of the rising  prison population and shrinking contributions to  health care , edU-caTion ,  community and environment all the while you can hear the sheep bleat and beep and bleat and beep
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Feb 27, 2010
Feb 27, 2010 at 7:06 PM UTC
Vacant
I'll never forget her face. Our eyes met; both had butterflies In our stomachs that had Butterflies in theirs. Teenage features made My eyes softer from Touching them with vision. Smiling with every inch of Herself; slightly protruding Canines gave her a sense of Wildness. An insanely Beautiful wolf. Mouth slightly open in Centre at default. Those lips that women botox Themselves to achieve. Angelina Jolie's half-sister's face. I became a slightly different man Then. Like after a near-death-experience. After three and a half years together She still blows my mind. I can watch her from a distance, and Contemplate the way her skin seems So thin over her collar bone that You wouldn't dare even kiss it If you could. That, and how I rest my Face there every evening and thank Whomever it May Concern For it all. I am a man with hungry eyes and Hands. Beauty is my ****** My own strengthening, inspiring, Comforting -every-day-Heaven- ******
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Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 3:14 PM UTC
Beauty is my ******
Wipe that powder off your nose And keep killing those boys With your poisonous emerald eyes And those venomous blood red lips Don’t let your nose bleed again It might give you away Rich girls don’t cry, remember? Here doll take some of my Xanax Drape yourself in luxury Go buy yourself some diamonds dear, Go get mama’s ****** refilled will ya? Stop that frowning, you’ll get wrinkles! You better marry that man He's perfect for you, just look at that ring! Aw my girl's growing up, her first botox appointment! Don't worry honey, pretty girls are happy girls.
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Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 1:14 AM UTC
Mama's Girl
in the quest to look younger women have face lifts the nips and tucks along with those Botox injections all in the name of beauties perfection but after a few years the procedures are repeated to give the aging dames that perfection once again a recent photo of a mature celebrity featured in a magazine her face resembled that of a cat restoring one's face to a youthful glow isn't always the prettiest of shows the cosmetic surgeons are making a motza for a face lift
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Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 11:22 PM UTC
Face Lift
**The fairest hair, peroxide blond beer shampoo feeding the roots primped and pinned with paperclips blown and set as candyfloss sticks. Hydro-pack cream erasing the pouches colourful lashes, stuck to the lids with copyright brows by electrolysis both almond eyes are now penciled in. Lines of life filled with putty trowelled in layers, foundations built delicate cheeks, powdered, pampered rouged and shaded, giving them youth. Clinical lips, Botox injected tattooed outlines guiding the brush the budding artist colours by numbers pouting, she paints in weatherproof gloss. Turtleneck sweater hiding the wrinkles genuine paste, drawing the eye both purl and knit-one inside the jumper pulled and snagged by glued on nails. High heel shoes, stretching the sinews of Lycra clad legs, holding them taut a girdle of whalebone hugging the figure gently molding, the form to behold. With grace we age throughout the years a time filled life, craves respect hairs of grey are marks of distinction an occasional blemish, a beauty spot. Tiny crow's feet, signs of good humour experience of life, lines proudly worn for with laughing eyes and glowing smile who need wear a plasticine face.** ...   ...   ...
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Apr 30, 2011
Apr 30, 2011 at 12:15 AM UTC
... Makeover ...
An overnight sensation Twenty years in the making Finally you're noticed All the roles that you've been taking High School plays gave you the bug Standing out front and centre stage You made your choice of a career Your life had turned a page Little theatre groups did beckon You'd learn your craft and be a star But, no one told you just how long you'd wait, or ...just how far You beat the boards in summer stock Singing Gershwin in the park You'd work in summer themed resorts Cleaning rooms out after dark Acting, was your calling You'd be a star one day...you knew But, even though you'd keep on working Your name to them was...who? Extra work and commercials You'd work the chorus for a while No matter where you heard...no luck You'd always leave them with a smile You swore you'd not get botox There'd be no nip and tuck You swore you'd keep on trying Remember...you've got pluck!!! The lines were forming around your eyes As time kept marching on Your lips were getting thinner The lead actress roles were gone You'd pile on the makeup And you'd lie about your age No one checked your background out So, you lied about the stage But, one day ...there was a call back A job you never thought was yours It was sure to go to a younger girl A true , new, photogenic ***** But, there it was....an offer The one role to get your start It said "Miss Watkins we are proud" "to offer you the part" You gratefully accepted, didn't let them know the truth It was better than a cruise ship show You were truly through the roof It was a show way off broadway The big time was around the bend You could see the lights from out the back You had made it...you'd pretend The makeup went on heavy But no one really cared they just ate up your performance Your soul you truly bared The critics were enamored They all loved you at first sight It only took you twenty years But, you'd made it overnight...
0
Mar 4, 2013
Mar 4, 2013 at 11:57 PM UTC
The Actress
An overnight sensation Twenty years in the making Finally you're noticed All the roles that you've been taking High School plays gave you the bug Standing out front and centre stage You made your choice of a career Your life had turned a page Little theatre groups did beckon You'd learn your craft and be a star But, no one told you just how long you'd wait, or ...just how far You beat the boards in summer stock Singing Gershwin in the park You'd work in summer themed resorts Cleaning rooms out after dark Acting, was your calling You'd be a star one day...you knew But, even though you'd keep on working Your name to them was...who? Extra work and commercials You'd work the chorus for a while No matter where you heard...no luck You'd always leave them with a smile You swore you'd not get botox There'd be no nip and tuck You swore you'd keep on trying Remember...you've got pluck!!! The lines were forming around your eyes As time kept marching on Your lips were getting thinner The lead actress roles were gone You'd pile on the makeup And you'd lie about your age No one checked your background out So, you lied about the stage But, one day ...there was a call back A job you never thought was yours It was sure to go to a younger girl A true , new, photogenic ***** But, there it was....an offer The one role to get your start It said "Miss Watkins we are proud" "to offer you the part" You gratefully accepted, didn't let them know the truth It was better than a cruise ship show You were truly through the roof It was a show way off broadway The big time was around the bend You could see the lights from out the back You had made it...you'd pretend The makeup went on heavy But no one really cared they just ate up your performance Your soul you truly bared The critics were enamored They all loved you at first sight It only took you twenty years But, you'd made it overnight...
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*first let’s discuss the girl in the other room you know the one? with the hair who's wearing too much perfume and those shoes              ha, those shoes! you know? her outfit's a costume yeah, that's the one! the pants… they did make her look* (                                                 ) *and her dye job? heard it’s box she has a **** job and botox* **** **** there she is phew... **haaaaay girlfriend I didn’t see you there! your hair is like so gorgeous! it's totally a win and I am like SO JEALOUS of your beautiful skin!!!! but could you be a doll and go find my brother Pete? I think he might be out front finding parking in the street** ex… oh… ex… oh… *she totally ****** Pete. I know, she seems nice but trust me she’s a ***** her legs are always open boys they use her like a bank I know I’ve slept with like eight guys I think she’s been with more than ten I know I cheated on my boyfriend but she totally ***** over men -* Pete! hey, thanks, giiiirl… love ya! ex… oh… ex… oh… so -ahem- this poem is called I Thought I Knew You...
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Nov 23, 2011
Nov 23, 2011 at 12:36 AM UTC
XOXO
How would their lives be? Would new houses be like newly weds? Maybe there is a history, like a new house on old ground is just a new regeneration of that house, even if it looks nothing like the old one. What if houses you seen in the “sketchy” neighborhoods are houses just like the owners? Maybe they looked beautiful and their surroundings blinded them and slowly let the paint rot away. What would it feel to be demolished? What if old beautiful houses were so wise? Or would they be false like the botox seen today? Would you remember it in your new form? What if the footprints of every person who ever walked upon the floor stayed there? Imprinted deep into the wood, always to be hidden? Man, what if houses could remember everyone who ever lived there? I wounder if houses loved or hated their families, like pets do with owners? Would the New York apartments have the personalities of the poor families, struggling art students, and free lance actors? Would the houses in L.A. always be singing a song? Would boarded houses just sit, projecting it’s past lives. Living it in order over and over cause it is better than being alone? You wait for those kids down the street to meddle in your backyard; losing their virginities in your dusty attic. What would houses think about right before wrecking ball?
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Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 1:51 AM UTC
What if houses could remember?
They say that little girls Are made of sugar, And spice, And everything nice But perfect girls Are made of Botox, Long smokes, And diet coke
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Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 4:07 PM UTC
Perfect Girls Don't Exist
Dear Body; I know it is stupid to see photoshopped girls and want to be like them. I know it is not possible to have flawless skin and a waist that tiny. I know I am supposed to be the one that preaches "love yourself" but honestly, it is unfeasible to not want to be perfect. It's not just the models or the celebrities who are fed a carrot a day and pumped with botox, but my friends are pretty, too. I wish you were skinnier, smoother, rounder, taller, clearer, more radiant and just generally less disgusting. I wish I could wear clothes like everyone else and feel comfortable. I wish you didn't make me feel so crap all the time. I wish I was not so ungrateful. I wish I didn't have to feel guilty every time I eat bacon. I wish chocolate was good for you. I wish you would not become damaged in elements. If you could just, I don't know, change? Sincerely, your disappointed owner.
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Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 8:59 AM UTC
Dear Body;
If you asked if I would skinny dip You would have hit it on the nose. But that was back when I was still Rather attractive without clothes. Now I don’t go around naked As long as it is in my power. I’ve gotten so fat and wrinkly I wear ****** even in the shower. I’m not kidding around a bit When I talk about this aging stuff. I not only don’t look so **** When I walk around in the buff, There are certain types of clothes I do much better to avoid wearing; Me in sweat pants or leggings Is not a sight I enjoy sharing. I’ve begun to look a bit like Laundry that is not quite dry. I’m not much surprised by this Because I understand why. I have been around a long time And have enjoyed my ice cream But it makes one into a pudding And makes other people scream. It’s just not a good idea these days To show of what time has done. There are such things as hotties But I know for sure I am not one. You know those Botox babies You see on the Hallmark Channel? Notice how they don’t look like Their faces are made of flannel? Well, I’m not into all that stuff, That reconstructive surgery. I don’t expect to look today Like an escapee from a nursery. I just make wardrobe choices well Bearing my current self in mind. I look upon some of it as wise And some of it as me being kind.
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Dec 23, 2016
Dec 23, 2016 at 10:15 PM UTC
ROPA VIEJA
occupy your mind be aware of your soul and take care of your heart only after these three things: help those loved ones close to you with the same problems. maybe if we preached this in churches and schools, we'd have less greed, less corruption, a real sense of humanity and a sense of brotherhood. maybe we wouldn't need to numb ourselves with botox, a bigger television set, and the feeling that we have a bigger **** than our neighbors. maybe we could all just progress, advance, evolve, and invent. such a bright future! such great dreams and hope! no, if they read this (they won't by the way) if they read this, the people who could change this system, they would say i'm a socialist twenty year old, who was too educated in the university or wasted it by smoking dope or that i was a hippie and needed to get a ******* job like your sell out fathers did. repeat their mistaken histories! get back in line! back into the system son! who the **** did you think you were? Hemingway? Voltaire? they never ******* changed anything either. words never ran a country or built a bridge. your hands would be better used for tilling the land. if you won't stop we'll have to remove you from those keys by force. he's not moving. get ready men. take aim now soldiers. fire.
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Nov 11, 2011
Nov 11, 2011 at 4:05 AM UTC
occupy your rambling mind about your shambling country.