||[May. 2nd, 2005|08:50 pm]
|||||ELO: "Sweet Talkin' Woman"||]|
Watchful eyes, one a little slower than the other,
Seeing the same sights, witnessing the same faces,
and yet imperfect, dispised, even feared.
Belonging to a thin face, pinched cheeks to
Bring some color to the surface,
and yet pale, sallow, cold as death.
See her as a whole, a person,
With thoughts, feelings stronger than average,
and yet empty, seen in parts, fractured.
Lazy eye moves out of sync, tries to get away,
Escape from the scrutiny of perfection's cruel gaze,
and yet unable to; trapped, studied, quivering, and
pins, needles, and paws
Rat tails, not puppy dog's tails,
That's what little boys are made of.
Girls are patches of fabric
Sprinkeled with cinnamon and sugar.
A lonely teardrop sends the pack
And the girl in the tattered
Victorian gown makes a new friend.
Their own little worlds
Self-Sufficient spheres, yet lacking
Humanity, thrust together
A collision neither