There was a time when we were both young. The course we've completed had just then begun. The boys liked to tease you purely for kicks. Aware they were not of the nerve that they hit. You granted your anguish permission to grow. You swore that your beauty to them you would show. You took the time to learn the ropes. Makeup, nailpolish, mascara, smooth strokes. The one final step was wooing the guys. A click and a flash and a few hundred eyes. Mission Accomplished! They tease you no more, But a seed had been planted for a Still Shot Cam Whore. You got your wish: respect from all. Guys look twice at you in the mall. The critics were silenced and you had won. That marked the end, but you weren't quite done. You had some plans for taking it further. Your former self you would wholly murder. Your beauty alone could not satisfy. A new reputation was all that would fly. "I wanna be on you. Back that thing up. Am I your playtoy? That answer is, 'Yup.'" These words you post for all men to see. Now you're committed to a life you can't lead. The men you desire will expect you to come To a place that you fear you'll not return from. You've got your new rep and your new set of peeps. The unknown is how long will these things you keep. Sooner or later they'll see its a spell. I hope when that happens you handle it well.
© 2005 Pflanzenfaser