All beauty rots in due time
Your face will too
Your art might as well
Every smile will lose its shine
Your eyes will hold tragedy
Bestowed by time
You may experience pain
Of how slowly it is all slipping away
A gradual diminish into abyss
Now tell me, love
What is it that we are supposed to do?
When this pretty little face would be of no use?
Illustration by Maria Nguyen

Pretty Faces


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