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.....That's fine princess,
you can live in your shallow world,
where priorities are such as
lipgloss and fake golden curls.
Where people don't fart,
and shit don't stink,
a bubble of a world where there's no hurt.
Where something that's pretty is existing
in the sole purpose to pretty you.

You pick the flowers, but you sow no seeds,
you place them in your hair,
and the mirror is feeding your needs,
but your eyes are only made for you,
they don't see the trail of whithered trees,
they don't see the destruction that your ego leave..

And the once so beautiful arctic fox
swept around your puny neck
is nothing but a sign of imperfection,
of a world that you believe to be perfect.
But you never saw that fox live, or run across the ice.
The price-tag told you the worth of it,
and with your greed, your need for pretty things stole its life.

But I come from a different world princess.
I am weeping as I go, sowing flowers on your trail,
dealing with your arrogance, day by day,
in your stench of perfume, or in other words to say,
the smell of a cheap woman,
who thought herself to be a maid,
fooled to thinking it is love,
when all the boys are having their way,
in her little princess fairytale..

But one day you will wake up,
somewhat old, wrinkled and gray,
fucked from your innocence over the years
and your pride hang loose and sway...

Who will ever love you then princess?
The day when you can't even love yourself....

Bunden vers (Rim) av Tjeckspeare
Läst 465 gånger och applåderad av 2 personer
Publicerad 2011-04-11 17:53

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