Does make-up make us beautiful?

I lost my face
going out the door . . .
but I don't care.
Drove up the street
bought one in the store.
The eyes are too dark;
the lipstick too bright.
I'll light up the park . . .
perhaps rip it off
and go natural.

My fallen face
needs painting to rise . . .
such tender care.
The yeast is love . . .
two dancing brown eyes.
"Play with me, Grandma.
You are so pretty;
that's paint's for Grandpa!
Can't he see your smile
lights up everything?

Sullen and fair,
I have some freckles . . .
but I don't care.
Foundation covers
but I prefer giggles,
tickling and wiggles,
to a perfect face.
Who needs age, wrinkles?
Who will make-up fool?
It doesn't change me!

I lost my face,
let it take a rest;
it's tender care.
God's masterpiece is . . .
enough for me.