I see your tongue, curled behind soft lips,
Your body cringing in sweet remorse
And hand wrapped tightly with high waist grips.
Drowning in sweet scents and hair coarse,
You seek devotion in a demeaning source.
You flash your emotion in disguised cries
Only to bear witness to unfulfilling lies.

Their kissing the ground of your plastic trail
As you kick up your heels leaving dust.
They see the strength painted over the frail
With your ruby red lipstick beginning to rust
And your melting plastic diminishing lust.
But with all the pain of applying the fake
You re-apply each morning you wake.

I see the glare in your bright blue eyes,
A glare of envy for the ghost
Where pearls and diamonds can’t disguise
And you can put butter on your toast.
Well isn’t that something to boast?
But I do not return the favour of desire,
For each day you set yourself on fire.