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Turning Back The Clock

Each day finds me in the spotlight
up above my mirror hung.
Revealing all my blemishes,
which can stop me looking young.

The jaw line is not so taut now,
and eyelids are drooping fast.
I’d hoped to grow old gracefully,
but the job ahead is vast.

Every hour brings on wrinkles,
which seem to be very deep,
The make-up kit cannot conceal,
when the imperfections creep.

I dab on sheer beige foundation,
what’s missing is pencilled in.
Some rosy lips to draw the eye
from the flaws upon the chin.

If I could just keep my distance,
the picture is not a shock.
A pleasant face appears and smiles,
bit like turning back the clock.

But in the garish light of day,
those age lines stand out for real.
For when that spotlight shines on me,
I so need a facial peel.

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