Fifteen (almost)
fifteen (almost)
adults always told them they were beautiful
that the other kids were jealous
Ha!
one tries to fit in
wearing a mask of makeup
a hat of hairspray
over her long dirty-blond wavy curls
the other cut off hers herself
wears it at her cheekbones
carefully, so it doesn't curl
of course, their grandmother says
that they still have those
sparkly blue eyes.
The End
RATE THIS CHAPTER!
Please login to rate this chapter!
RATINGS BREAKDOWN
1 COMMENT ABOUT THIS POEM Feed
THE GOODS
You're currently reading a chapter in the poem
Precious Golden Locks. This chapter
was posted on Mar 14, 2010 by
Juliia.
This is a solo poem.
About this poem
"a story of coming of age"
This poem is filed under:
Uncategorized
POST A COMMENT
Wanna say something? Make yourself heard!
We reserve the right to delete spam, flames, or other nasty stuff.