Miss Lisa

Pretty as a picture and stuck inside her frame

Same old colours and boring prim pose

She longs to wear a colour lighter than black

Something to stand out from the drudgery of sludge

That litters her time of the art world

She has porcelain skin all right

And I bet she’ll crack like porcelain too

Smashing like a vase cruelly on concrete

The moment she’s said to be less than perfect

Her self-esteem works like a dream

Until someone mentions that beauty is inner

Then she realises that stepping out of her portrait

Takes a real leap of faith and a vial of courage

That she has never possessed in any century

But if she keeps smiling they’ll never notice.

Little Ginge x


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