He smiles at a woman
of fine dresses,
stilettos and
diamond rings.
He smiles at a woman
of lenses,
make-up and
lipstick she brings.
Then he smiles back at me
wanting me to be that woman.
And his smiles bring me tears and heartaches.
Smiles. Tears. And Heartaches.
He gives me
smiles,
tears,
and heartaches.
For I am not a woman
of fine dresses,
stilettos and
diamond rings.
And I don't have
the lenses,
make-up and
lipstick she brings.
For I am only a woman
of smiles,
tears and
heartaches.
For he always gives me
smiles,
tears,
and heartaches.
Mar 14, 2011
Mar 14, 2011 at 5:26 AM UTC
He smiles at a woman
of fine dresses,
stilettos and
diamond rings.
He smiles at a woman
of lenses,
make-up and
lipstick she brings.
Then he smiles back at me
wanting me to be that woman.
And his smiles bring me tears and heartaches.
Smiles. Tears. And Heartaches.
He gives me
smiles,
tears,
and heartaches.
For I am not a woman
of fine dresses,
stilettos and
diamond rings.
And I don't have
the lenses,
make-up and
lipstick she brings.
For I am only a woman
of smiles,
tears and
heartaches.
For he always gives me
smiles,
tears,
and heartaches.
