You just want
Some
Decoration...
A pretty 
Rose
In your 
Vase.
Something 
You can 
Mold,
Your own 
Creation;
That comes with 
A beautiful 
Face.
My eyes 
have bags
Way down
To there;
Got pimples 
on 
my jaw;
My breasts
Deflated;
Derriere
so small,
I'm a Mom,
and a
Grandma...
My petals;
Withered
From Life's 
great trials,
My hurt
Shows
Outside in;
I 
Likely won't
Shine
In that 
Vase
You've got,
My Beauty
is 
Deep
Within.
You can't mold
Me,
Life's handled that;
You get
Just what
You see...
Won't be
Displayed
Nor changed
For you...
Cause 
Dammit...
I Fucking 
LOVE
Being 
ME.