Black hoodies
over neck sweaters...
You say I live in a third world,
then how comes you haven't migrated...
Wrapped thick,
in putrid stench...
Heads keep bending down
Fingers move at a rapid pace...
Penurious parchment
aches...
We flaunt our sex,
soliciting everyone in sight...
You grab my hand and invite me
Out to the dance of life, hands on my waist...
You generated a series of water waves
with the falsehood that you don't impact...
I see these little people live their little lives
Ignorant of the world...
Placing her hands on the cool ceramic of the sink
Her tired eyes read over the lipstick message...
Didn't you realise that perfection does not exist...
That "perfection" you so incessantly...
Why do men see something beautiful
and think they can place it in a cage...