Light shades,
Dark shades,
What am i to wear?

Lipstick, mascara,
Base and nail polish,
Mom in the back ground says, ' You're going to college.'

**** !
I need a new bag,
Also a liner by Mac.

Maybelline polishes,
All stacked,
So many colours,
But not black.

I need to apply Revlon,
As much as i can put on,
Making my lashes prominant.

5th Avenue, Still and Elizebeth Arden,
I want to wear them all,
' Oh no, i don't ' says my conscience,
But then again they're scents and my heart wants them.

Unzipping my wallet,
' No ', i have not much.
Making the puppy dog face,
' Mom ! Can i get money to buy a base ? '

She nodded.
' Also i want perfume, liner, mascara and a nail polish. '
She gives me a look.
' Go get your money and spend them on it.'

But i have no money,
I say,
She says,' Get a job and buy all of it.'
Like a baby i sob.

She ignores,
Looking all bored,
So she knows,
I'm acting emotional then why not scold

A neon advertisement of Elizebeth Arden was sparking in a wonderful 3D
Array
I was passing thru Shanklin, Heading towards Sandown
And beyond Black Gang Chine, Heading up to White Cliff Bay.
Walking thru a prehistoric night,
And Evelyn suggested that we liberate a boat-
I replied, Why don't we awaken our ghosts
to float on the still night airway ?
240 feet above the Chanel aqua-spray,
Aware of only night from day,
And however angelic my love is,
Her personality can revolve in a mysterious way,
She blessed my notion
And her first idea joined the corrosion
At the foot of White Cliff Bay.
Her eyes spoke to me.
You are only as conscientious as your persona allows.
We watched the angry coast, Coaxing and tormenting
Where the ancient ocean bows
And nature steps over a part of time
That tells of it's own decay,
And man has no part here to play,
As the wet chalk laments to the sky
And the Devil crashes into innocent pacified
Clay, Chaotic and ruthless against a naked White Cliff Bay.

This is how I came to be,
Shaped by the perpetual onslaught of endless sea.
Knowing that the harm that has been done to me
Can never be justified,
Just as childhood promises always have their fruitition shunned
As every story book lied in the same fixtures where faithful ancestors
Were betrayed
As they knelt in hell - Burning as they prayed
To a God who was now a witness here on White Cliff Bay.

But I feel a new direction is drifting my way
And she touches my forhead I feel okay,
And the whole unexplained truth of life is now unfolding
Like the relics and the fossils of White Cliff Bay,
And the new life I am holding.