Rushing to the ebony beauty store,
Shooting like a swift cannon,
I gaze upon stunning mahogany cosmetic brushes.
I reach the vine of goat-hair bristles;
I pluck the highest one with pure excitement.
As I bring it down,
I fix upon a smooth piece of cocoa brown treasure.
Never have I felt something as soft as this before,
But my delight was soon to be over.

I turn around and see thousands of painted hawks glaring at me;
As if I was to be their next meal.
I see the mature customers in the jet-black cosmetic store;
The workers did not exchange a single dirty look to them.
A look that pierced my soul.
I wondered – why was I the only one?
And then suddenly…
I glanced at the mirror lined by bright luminescent lights, and I asked myself
What do they think a teen like me is capable of doing?
Nothing, I abruptly left.

It’s a shame,
I really did like that brush.