Perfectly Fake - Diane Scantlebury

She’s not happy
So she’ll change her look,
Choose a perfect new image
From a glossy magazine or book,
Endure the pain of
Being pummelled and plucked,
To have a bottom like J-Lo’s
And her thighs lipo sucked,

Still not content to leave it at that,
She’ll have her lids and brows lifted
Till she has eyes like a cat,
With lips like a duck
She can hardly speak,
Her face is expressionless and wax like,
Her nose resembles a beak,

Not yet satisfied
Her attention turns to her chest,
And the puppy dog ears that hang
And fail the pencil test,
Encouraged by the tabloids
She feels every woman should want,
A huge pair of bosoms
On sunny holiday beach to flaunt,

Add a dazzling white smile,
Plus a few random tattoos
All that’s left for her is on a sun bed to bake,
She’s now nip, tucked and orange,
The desired effect is complete,
She’s perfectly fake.

Diane Scantlebury