Incurable

There are vast legions among us
afflicted with the conceit of vanity
and in response to their incoherent
desire to become/remain/return to
youth and beauty the response offering
a solution is there with the avuncular
hubris of eager demi-gods prepared to
match conceit with deserved deceit. In 
a  desperate bid to remain visually
desirable, dewy-young and beautiful
the vulnerable flock to the salons of
plastic surgeons whose willingness to
serve those for whom no price is too
steep to trade for rejuvenation into
the cult of the young, the lithe and 
the time-untouched remains boundless
with confidence and treacly assurances.
Not for them, who invest their purpose
in life to remain enticingly smooth
skinned and winsome, the symptoms
of fearful aging, the creased brow and
the mirth-creased mouth betraying a
life well lived. And those betraying
the healing profession expand their
horizons to entice the still-young with
flawlessly smooth faces of angelic
complexion to become 'proactive'
investing in costly treatments well
before the aging process arrives, to
ensure it never will. Some appear to 
onlookers to have arrested time by
freezing expression while others have
the unmitigated misfortune to present as
some kind of chimera resembling neither
youth nor agedness but a sad caricature.