by Dominic Mercer
Vanity There was real beauty True beauty even, The kind of air and grace That turns heads. But Therein lies a spiteful seed A slowly growing ever-present awareness Of the very quality. Beauty. At first it’s a realization of self Then it’s a realization of others reactions; Comments, flattery and flirting Lead to; Mirror watching, makeup and manipulation At first the world bows, Running for every beck and call But slowly invisible cracks appear Like those in a deep blue glacier. The reflection will change slightly As the mirror just sits on the wall But the people begin to stare harder As the image won’t fade from their mind And the transparency will make that Vain face Fall So chop off your nose to save your pretty Face.
Revista fictícia de poesia. Treball de 1r de Gràfica Publicitària. EADT 2007