Paint me with the slight scars 
that appear with insights of
incidents that took place
with nature's intention to groom my strength. 

The beauty spot 
on my lip is not an
Edit but a feature of difference amongst 
millions that exist. 

If possible, make my
dimple stand out 'cause
It's my symbol of my joy.

With your painting of me
I'll carve stars that'll shoot 
to endless nights of happiness. 

Paint an image of me that represents 
Our love.

So mom told me " I don't know what we are going to eat tomorrow ".
I decided to leave my beauty 
'cause I knew "Pretty" was going to keep us away from starvation in the next morning. 
Tight dress, I wore.
9 inches heel, I wore. 
Red lipstick, I wore.
Mascara
Blush
Mud or whatever the usuals call it " a Coverage".
I once heard " Pretty " makes you the centre of attention. 
I heard that "Pretty" fills your pocket for a day.
I mean no jobs.
Lack of education. 
What is there for me to have a profession in?
Millions spent to change streets that already have names.
Pastors don't practice what they preach. 
Case documents missing 
And Lawyers being caught in the middle. 
Governments expanding their estates with the nation's money 
Who are we to trust these people with our lives?
Who am I not to use my Pretty flaw to cash up?
Who am I to criticise, when I too is breaking the image of womanhood? 
Yes, "Pretty" struck an *** of a man's eyes.
Boxers who can't read or write earn millions for a round. 
I get R200 for a round
Battling with a stranger
Pretty smashes beauty.
Him winning the round
Me losing myself
        Losing self-respect
        Losing womanhood. 
But still we had a something to eat the next morning and night. 
My mom smiled not knowing where it all came from.

So mom told me " I don't know what we are going to eat tomorrow ".
I decided to leave my beauty 
'cause I knew "Pretty" was going to keep us away from starvation in the next morning. 
Tight dress, I wore.
9 inches heel, I wore. 
Red lipstick, I wore.
Mascara
Blush
Mud or whatever the usuals call it " a Coverage".
I once heard " Pretty " makes you the centre of attention. 
I heard that "Pretty" fills your pocket for a day.
I mean no jobs.
Lack of education. 
What is there for me to have a profession in?
Millions spent to change streets that already have names.
Pastors don't practice what they preach. 
Case documents missing 
And Lawyers being caught in the middle. 
Governments expanding their estates with the nation's money 
Who are we to trust these people with our lives?
Who am I not to use my Pretty flaw to cash up?
Who am I to criticise, when I too is breaking the image of womanhood? 
Yes, "Pretty" struck an *** of a man's eyes.
Boxers who can't read or write earn millions for a round. 
I get R200 for a round
Battling with a stranger
Pretty smashes beauty.
Him winning the round
Me losing myself
        Losing self-respect
        Losing womanhood. 
But still we had a something to eat the next morning and night. 
My mom smiled not knowing where it all came from.

So I asked " what will I be to you when I'm gone? 
Will I be the dead one?
Will I be the cut on your heart? 
What will I be to you?"
Not intended to leave with unfinished tasks 
But I intended to fall in love with you
Will I still be your lover?