The Plight of the Red Lipstick

October 16, 2011
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So smooth and so slick
Like his touch on her thigh
A touch morphed so quick
From truth to a lie
Deep and Red
Like his face filled with anger
Crimson spilled
At the hands of her stranger
Yearn for lips the part to smile
Mouths that speak of happy days
Decorate lips in joy
Lips that laugh time away
Bust standing as her only hope
Needed by this helpless soul
Decorating lips of anguish
Pleading for needed control
Focus on her hips her lips
Not the slurs he wants to spit
Not carve more from the pit
Of her soul through one more hit
Yes, focus on her lingerie lace
Not what can be bruised on her innocent face
Let my beauty somehow aid
In her tragic plight
Let my beauty help her survive Each dangerous night





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