Mascara

My face is naked
No mascara
No mask
Care?
Uh ... ?

Please hold those questions
I am an anomaly
But, I am not autonomous
My skin is autumn brushed
with winter's gentle kiss
Gentle kiss, gentle wind
There's that ever penetrating myth
Myth of youth that makes me think upon elation
One may call that stargazing, one might call me sick
Please be patient! (sirens)
And just breathe ...
I'm commonly misconstrued
but I'm not out to be rude
Some say that I'm quite polite
Don't know which of the two
I pertain to more so
I'm two one-sided coins
that are glued to form gold
What?
It's 12:00, I'm rather droll
Lately, I lack desire
Searching for Holy fire
But God is in Heaven, so let my words be few
I choose to end this poem
Like I said, I'm misconstrued