Face painted with foundation, lipstick, lip gloss and eye shadow
Jewellery in hands, around the neck and ankles
Hair stylised, cut to appear like a young maiden
But one wintry wire stands upright from within
All gaudiness becomes mocking
As old age dawns knocking
Yet dye them again and again
But exhausted efforts in vain
Why hide the truth, the reality?
The testimony of the cycle of destiny
Infinite tasks to straighten the skin
But inevitable dawns the decaying dotage
Why not accept the grave gravity?
The white sanctity of progress, development and maturity
The emblem of polished purity
That removes the mask, reveals true identity.