Curled up in her room,

With a book that’s really long,

Not hanging out near her school,

With everyone else,

Her lipstick is red,

And her mascara is dark,

But that’s the only makeup,

She wears,

Not a face full of foundation,

Or contour or blush,

She’s twelve years old,

A little concealer,

Here and there,

She gets a text from her best friend,

Moaning that her boyfriend’s dumped her again,

She says that she’s sorry and that the guy was nice,

But she has nothing else to say,

He hadn’t been nice,

She was better off without him,

But it was her choice,

Her love life,

And hers was hers,

And her life was up to,



One thought on “Her

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