Written at around 16 when I was starting to get a little sick of make up:
Smudge the smudges all away,
Let the spots stand raw,
Mascara may mask the mystery,
But what does it really stand for?
Remember that child? That child
with the clear skinned smile,
the child with the freckled face?
Well that child is not my child,
but the child of the human race,
Wipe away the cracked foundation,
it serves no purpose anyway,
Looking that little more beautiful,
won’t increase your chance of a say,
Remember that moral? That moral
you were taught as a child,
a child with a freckled face?
Well that child thinks covering your
freckles is silly & somewhat base,
Cleanse the shadow all away,
The shadow that opens your eyes,
For open eyes with a closed mind,
are susceptible to lies,
Remember the past? The past
without worry as a child,
The child with the freckled face,
Well that child considers the
money & chemicals all to be a waste.