Microbeads and rare seaweeds,
A mix, a charm, a potion,
And other things, nobody needs,
Where did they get the notion?
It tightens, lightens, restores, revives,
It’s based on spells from ancient tribes,
With sap leeched from an ancient tree,
A better you, a better me.
Elixir of eternal youth,
Crushed powder from a tiger’s tooth,
No signs of scientific proof,
What’s that? Your skin is feeling loose?
A native bloom now facing doom,
Another, another… gone,
Eventually the world reclaims,
All that we started from.
And from all that we started from,
From this to that, what we’ve become,
Smooth skin, soft whispers, bottled scents,
Not thinking of the consequence.
Such beauty comes at no small cost,
And already so much have we lost,
Yet the future is still ours to choose,
Let us hope it’s not squeezed from a tube.
Michael Scott Hand 