Why Don’t You Leave My Face?

The very first time you showed up,

I just gave you some rub,

I asked my friend what you were,

He said you were a zit.

 

You are a rising issue,

For which I need some tissue,

You are a pressing matter,

Evolving into a small crater.

 

You have a whole host of names,

A tribute to your fame,

Acne, pustule, papule, zit and pimple,

Why don’t you just turn into a dimple?

 

You single-handedly deflate my ego,

The names I have been called,

Crater face, pizza face and speed bumps,

You’re making my life so glum.

 

Excess oil mixed with dead skin cells,

Makes my life a living hell,

The pugnacious cocktail plugs my pores,

Inflicting me with pus-filled sores.

 

Why don’t you leave my face?

You are making a real mess,

If you insist on residing on my face,

At least show some grace.