Beyond What Is Improvable

What wouldn't you do to extend your life? Or your youth; which is more desirable An afterlife or not being, found, certifiable. Are there any parables we can rationalize That combines these two rivals, not as foes Sure it'd be better to accept what bestows? Change is inevitable forget them, surgeons Their promises are hollow and verbose They only furnish your ego's voice worthless -ness, leaving you feeling empty, predispose To intense emotions of negativity, undesirable And even on self-reflection, unrecognizable. Except whom you, really are: the good the bad And even the damned worn-out wrinkled ugly Feel better, by having your own, natural vivacity. Real beauty openly houses unguarded contraband. So, darling, I forbid you to look any more beautiful To me, you are already, beyond what is improvable.