(Poem) The Prissy: American Beauty

-Her credentials accept no questions.

-On paper, she bears the title of “queen.”

-The fiercest of strides she’ll wield with glorious skill
and precision. 

-Those heel strikes punish the ground and nearly kick up sparks to introduce her presence.
-And, in her mind, she feels it’s one she’s more than owed. 

-She’s so cautious of not making eye contact with any man.

-You’d think she’d go stone if she’d dare face you to ask, “How is this day treating you, sir?” 

-Secretly, most are peasants in her perceptions.
-It’s the fact she won’t admit.

-Out of conceit, maybe she might. 

-In any case, eyeliner will remain expertly applied, mascara will be lavishly layered, and lip liner is carefully critiqued as if she was mortified to mirror mortals. 

-Many mites have questioned if she’s fully aware of her  curvy, suggestive, sizzling, and very distracting ways  and the power they contain. 

-Very aware of her arsenal, she’ll entice many and claim not to. 

-Even with college complete, a career so neat, and even a prize husband so sweet, the wise know what she runs from, inside. 

-It’s the selfishness she blinds herself from, within. 

-She’s trained to lie to the heart.
-Selflessness presented her freedom she turned down long ago. 

-So, why feebly attempt exploring her community involvements, a youth she’s mentored, some social injustice she rose up against, a time she was patient enough to hear a bum’s thoughts, the instances she prayed for people she didn’t know, a situation where she went above and beyond to walk with a common man through the dark, or when she rooted for someone else’s success as much as her own? 

-How many stories could or couldn’t she tell? 

-The Facebook account boast of 2,722 plastic buddies, but it so happens she placed none in the social circle to challenge her properly.
-The ones that do receive the labels of irrational and moody. 

-When exalting one’s self in the name of education, it’s child’s play to debate on evolution or finances, with you.

-If you’re wise, you know she’ll beat you with experience. 

-So, the immaculate and stylish head will remain locked in the upright position.

-She won’t bear many risks of interaction. 

-And, that distracting busyness will pose on further.

-At end of the day, when fate finally crushes that prissy American girl, hopefully, the freedom will still be calling.


The Prissy: American Beauty
is a poem featured my second published upcoming anthology,
A Pale Face for a Collar: Testimonials of an Office Rat,”


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