writing

A.M. Working Girls

Pretty little pity girl
You’re all dolled up in six inch heels
Reeling from the alcohol
And crying tears that sparkle.
Impartial to those naughty boys
Who spoil but cheat and hurt you
Throwing glitter on your wounded pride
Riding on torn coattails.
Oh pitiful little pretty girl
That glitz rubbed off your knickers
The liquor’s soaked right through your eyes
Surprising those who knew you.
Your hearty party glamour plans
Fell through when he debased you
Blue flecks of glitter streaming down
Don’t worry, you’re just dreaming.

Glitter

Not all that glitters is gold.

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2 thoughts on “A.M. Working Girls

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