Painted Lady

March 3, 2011
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You take so much for granted,
Not the first time you'll hear those words.
With that $200 Gucci bag
And those snakeskin's heels,
Embroidered with Tahitian pearls.
You drive a Mercedes-Benz
And complain about the gasoline price.
You dine in exquisite bistros
And fail to leave a tip.
You order around assistants like slaves,
And never utter a thank-you.
And yet you mourn
For what you don’t have.
But what do you have?
Someone to call mine?
Neighbors complain
About the materialistic freak-next-door.
Flashing an emerald ring one morning,
And a diamond the next.
But the smug, better-than-you look
Is forever etched onto your
Painted lips.
But they frown so deeply
Every time you feel the empty space
Between your finger.
Thinking of what could have been.

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This article has 3 comments. Post your own now!

Lahari said...
Oct. 29, 2011 at 11:39 am
Whoever keeps rating this article a "1"STOP, okay? This poem is about to be PUBLISHED in a BOOK. So there. I'm sure thats better off than any of your work. 
buggzbunnie said...
Mar. 30, 2011 at 9:20 pm

i really like this


Lahari replied...
Mar. 30, 2011 at 9:23 pm
Thank you! :)
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