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Tuesday, 2 August 2011

Vanity Hurts

Don't forget, next to Wendy at 1st Unique Gifts for handmade Monday.  Worth a look

When I was a child we had either metal curlers or rags in the hair to provide one with a coiffeur for the following day.  We did have curling tongues but these were inserted in a fire until red hot prior to curling hair around it.  Risky?  Yes, definitely.  If one wasn’t careful one could end up with very short hair indeed.

The reason I mention these tortures is that I recall one of my Mothers favourite sayings as she dragged a comb through my long and often knotted hair.  “Vanity hurts my girl, vanity hurts”.

When I think of what some people do today all in the name of beauty.

I’ve suffered agonies over the years
I’ve cried and cried so many tears.
The surgeons knife, always so sharp
Has now created this work of art.
My face would launch a thousand ships,
My legs now rise to slender hips
My boobs are pointed and erect
There’s not much left to now dissect.
The double chin I had has gone
The neck is wrinkle free and long.
What varicose veins, how dare you ask
Comfortable flab - a thing of the past.
The trouble is I’m still inside
Struggling to get out of this well honed hide
I look in the mirror and what do I see
The same fat, frumpy, dowdy me.


5 comments:

  1. Haha. I'm actually still a size 8 - in my head (and nowhere else!). I try to squeeze through gaps and then realise actually I'm fatter than I imagine.

    Now if I could just get my body to connect with my mind, one way or another.

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  2. Putting words into rhyme seems to make them much more memorable, and you have created a really vivid picture in my mind with this poem.

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  3. So true. I live in S. FL the land of cosmetic surgery. I have not gone in for that myself, but you see a lot of people who do. Love the thoughts in this tho. People fight nature and then still don't feel "beautiful". It's what's in your heart that matters.

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  4. He he, very clever and with quite a strong moral message.

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  5. I had the 'natural' body of 'she' of your rhyme.... and then I woke up.

    I remember me and my 2 sisters going to bed with rags in. Theirs always turned out with beautiful ringlets, mine was either straight or fizzy within an hour. (but Mum kept trying)

    Jan x

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