This poem is actually more straight forward then any of my other poems. More off of imagery and slang for what could be something that is fake. This is something that I saw in the subway of the city recently. Comments are open.
Plastic
So fake
So phony.
Cheap
Perfume.
Eyes
That stare.
On the
Outside.
Pitch black
With lights
And deafening
Noises.
It roles
Along
The tracks.
Staring out
Staring back.
Eyes
That stare out
With blonde hair.
Bulging
Eyes.
Frail
Face.
On the outside
The veins
Of the city
Pulsate.
So much
Make-up
Rather
Too much.
To make
Pretty
And to
Be pretty
Are two things.
To make up
For pretty
Is ugly.
And
She
Is all
Plastic.
All
Fake.
All
Plastic.
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