I imagine that most of us, at one time or another, have encounted some version of this not-so-sweet young thing.
Her Royal Highness of Malibu
is, like, totally awesome. See? Faux nose in the air
and her beach blonde hair
means she’s better than you and me.
She rules with her Daddy’s credit cards,
wielding Visa and Amex Gold.
Though she’s seventeen,
drives a Benz that’s green,
with her attitude spoiled and cold.
She spends hours working out at the gym
to ensure that she stays size two.
Her jeans are so tight
her buns are a sight:
two shrink-wrapped tomatoes in blue.
At school she’s the queen of the rich kids,
and the cheerleader chief as well.
The boys are her slaves,
though to her, they’re knaves,
and she’s always late for the bell.
Someday she will get her comeuppance,
and I can’t wait, truth be told.
There will come a day
she won’t have her way,
‘cause she’ll wake up and find she’s… old.
Oh, yes! It does happen to all of us and then, in time, the surgery the Malibu Queen and those of her ilk have through the years will find the tautly stretched flesh of face does not quite match the wrinkles that cannot be removed about her throat, or the flesh that drops beneath her arms, or, in time, the thickning of the waist and the widening of the buttocks. Too bad, oh, Malibu Queen. Hearts bleeding for you? Nah, I think not.
Mark
Contraband Marriage, traveling along the hemline of loving after incarceration, is a love story written in lyric and free form, set in reality with a different ever after.
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Cheers,
Dan
Well said!
John
Mark
Regis