Weird is her style and weed her perfume:
rocks bright orange leggings stretch'd over her thighs,
wraps her sleek figure in sable costume,
and packs fatal heat behind two black-lined eyes.
She knows how she does, and does it so well
I've heard her lips taste like a swift and sweet doom
mix'd with fresh strawberries. She casts a spell
that breaks ev'ry neck when she walks in the room.
She chases down Svedka with Tanqueray
wakes up each morning in a different motel
lives haply on edge, extolling each day
and parties like she knows she's going to hell.
She rides alone: has no clique, has no crew
doesn't go to church; she prays in her own way.
The robots, shock'd by un-programmed taboo,
call her a sick demon and cast her away.
But smile still, my lady of the night,
you keep who you are, and to yourself, be true.
Your smile shines brighter than plain daylight--
Fuck all the haters--keep doing as you do.
A contest entry
- Rhyming prewrites :] by Ami.
550 points, ended August 24, 75 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - A call for good poems by Misunderstood-Teen.
800 points, ended August 26, 111 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
I know it's rough; how can I smooth it up?
Comments
-
ooo, I really liked this a lot.
reminded me of myself
"She rides alone: has no clique, has no crew
doesn't go to church; she prays in her own way.
The robots, shock'd by un-programmed taboo,
call her a sick demon and cast her away."

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I liked this.
I thought it was well written.
BRAVO! great emotions as well as awesome imagery in this piece.
WOW! good luck in the contest.

