Good for nothing defiled old rags, faces made pretty but worst than a long sticking cadaver.
Folded like good tidings but a worst thing to ever behold, yet souls bow not just to behold but to embrace, feed and even use as raiment.
At every beholding they smile, calling passers bye ‘mugu’ while I warn, shaking my head in pity for their impending doom.
Few moment of vain pleasure and a whole eternity is gone. Only a fool will give his or her own soul in Ransome for ephemeral tidings.
You are beautiful without the rags. Click here to watch ‘define your beauty’.
Writer:John Boniface Friday (G.O.C)