I saw you there with face-to-face,
and pressed up close to sparkling glass.
Every morning feels a race,
but somehow you find time to mask.
When you return that very night,
back to the glass you spring to clean.
I can’t imagine what a fight,
that it must be to shine with sheen.
I want to say, in fact I did,
that paint is something you don’t need.
I want to see your face unhid,
a lesson that the world should heed.
Your natural beauty lone is best,
a portrait that some artist drew.
So please withdraw your bathroom nest,
and ask the panda, she knew too.