The first time I saw her, she looked just like a doll
With false extended lashes, pink lips, dressed for a ball
Her skin was smooth and silky, her hair in rings of curls
Her clothes designer- immaculate, around her neck, some pearls.
A beauty no one doubted, a shining work of art.
The next time that I saw her, her world had gone apart.
Adolescence marred by acne, a mustache partly there
I tried not to gasp at her, I struggled not to stare
Dressed in sweats and looking down, I hardly knew her face
The glory I had met before, I could not detect a trace
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