Ode to the Pimple

I wake up in the morning
and I see my sleepy face.
And there, right on my forehead,
a sight I wish I could erase.

I move closer to the mirror
and I groan in disbelief,
that round thing upon my forehead!
Oh! the source of teenage grief.

With my fingers I touch softly
all around the angry spot.
It is red, and deep, and painful,
Should I squeeze, or touch it not?

Oh! the bane of adolescence-
Mortifying! Wretched! Cruel!
But we’re unified in suffering
all the students at my school.

So I open up the cupboard-
pimple products by the score.
Hopefully one will help me
as I face the world once more.