she was, basically, a walking closet--
her hair was swirly and turbulent
(like a mop),
and she wore a long and boring gray jacket
that hid any curvatures or contours that she
assumedly possessed;
her leather boots were much too large
and dangled with every stride
of lanky 'sticks', she called legs.
what a foreign mess!
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2 comments:
Hah, the same thoughts run through my head when I see someone of the sort. I wonder that too... I wonder that too. :/
It just gets me curious to see what people's ideas of beauty are and how such thoughts are molded by society.
But yeah, the poem was inspired by a girl I saw at school. She was skinny, but her loose clothing and bold straggly hair had me wondering.
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