The final piece of makeup
She becomes the woman
No kiss on those ruby lips
All for show
Let’s not spoil the glow
For the woman on the go
Competing with Miss high heels
Not forgetting bimbo bitch
The other one who loves herself
Women in general
Checks the mirror for the approval seal
She’s hot
The real deal
Turns and asks
How do i look
I don’t know
I left you years ago..
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Author:
Paul Bell (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 24th, 2026 05:22
- Category: Sad
- Views: 9
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments3
Vanity has its price as does all else. Age peals the pain and rusts the steel. Mirror mirror on the wall who's the fairest of them all. Entropy takes its toll and even the fairest fall into wrinkles and rot. None escape the maggots. Well written Paul
Yes, the skin goes, the rest follows.
So true
What a deliciously cutting poem, Paul! The playful cadence, mounting satire, and sudden emotional chill work beautifully together. I laughed…and then that final turn reminded me how thoroughly a relationship may end before anyone actually leaves. Excellent work, my friend! 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Always good when someone doesn't actually realise you've gone.
There’s a bitter, cutting edge here—identity worn like armor, polished for a world that never quite sees the person underneath.
That last turn lands cold and clean, like walking away long before the mirror ever learned to tell the truth.
Yes, the mirror just relects what you want it to.
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