Beauty Bypass

So they’ll shove their stupid happy faces right up against yours,
And let you know that it’s your fault that you can’t raise a smile
From the depths of your cold form, you can’t muster the force
You’d need to pull it up on its rope. They’ll do it to rile
You, knowing that they’re experts in frustrating and annoying
And intruding on your privacy when you want to be alone,
Calling for you to join in with their irritating, cloying
Game of photogenic grins. It’s designed to make you groan.

They see the lenses focusing and stretch forwards to greet them
With well-lit profile ready for next month’s new magazine,
They compete with all the other pretty people; strain to beat them
In the endless contest to display the greatest gloss and sheen.

And they’ll leave you in the background if they invite you at all
And hope the camera doesn’t capture your imperfect features,
They’ll make sure when the flash comes that you are facing the wall
Or at the side, as long as you don’t obscure those other creatures
Who, laughing, take pride of place while you’re still in the starting-block,
And pose full-heartedly for every upright pane of glass.
They’ll look down their slender noses as they simper, and they’ll mock
You - shrinking violet - and your obvious beauty bypass.

So no wonder you shun streetlamps and cower at the thought
Of your facial flaws being thrown into unflattering light,
And you run around the vicious circle in which you’ve been caught,
A captive in the ugly trap that has closed around you tight.