That which pleaseth the eye,
is the skin that dost die;
tendered with care and fostered with food,
pray, hanker after it why you should?
Why worry if the hair's not fine,
over that which stands not the test of time.
Weakness, disease and old age will soon reign,
then, why so much make-up do you feign?
What is true are the qualities few
that shines and sparkes like the morning dew;
which will enrich the life precious,
bow before virtue, my head sure does.
A kind heart, what a treasure to hold,
selfless love - what a sight to behold!
Beauty of body, with time, will fade,
a golden character - nothing greater made.
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