If I Were Cupid 
I'd dump all these valuable gifts at your door,
The gifts you have lost that you cherished of yore
I'd deliver you all the maidenly vigor,
That goes along with a size 10 figure.
Restore the old color that once graced your hair
Before rinses and bleaches took up residence there.
I'd bring back the contours with which you were gifted,
So things now suspended, need not be uplifted.
I'd draw in your stomachs and smooth down your backs,
'Til you'd be a dream in tight fitting slacks.
I'd remove all the wrinkles--leave only one chin,
And you could remember all the places you've been.
You wouldn't have flashes nor queer dizzy spells,
You wouldn't hear noises and ringing of bells.
No searching of closets to find bigger clothes,
No hunting for spectacles right on your nose.
No shots in the arm or the hip or the fanny,
By a doctor who thinks you're a nervous old granny.
Yes, if I were Cupid these things I'd deliver,
The romance of Cupid with his cute little quiver.