There once was a man with a porcelain face,
His beauty outshone that of the human race,
And they adored him ever so much,
They let his beauty become his crutch,
Yet eventually, chip after chip, crack after crack,
His beauty began to draw back,
Underneath that porcelain feature,
Did lie a scarred and repulsive creature,
Of vanity, and all things of the sort,
With beauty fleeting he did resort,
To desperate measures to preserve his fame and beauty,
But to no avail.
For the world had left and moved on,
Leaving him sorrow in which to dwell.