standards standards standards.
what a pity,
you can't even feign happiness anymore.
plump your lips, widen your hips, be pretty,
and all of your fears and worries will be no more.
bat your lashes, show your breasts,
when he touches your hair, don't you dare deny his request.
show him, love, strip naked bare.
this is what you spent thousands on,
darling, this is what they'll love.
if they don't, use more plastic -maybe a ton-
even if you don't like how that touch feels so rough.
dare not shall you blame me
for I only guided you
to the endless love sea.
you caged yourself by your own handmade bars,
and you didn't like the confinement yet you endured.
lips singing prays for one higher than stars,
ate the screams and never once doubted that one day you will be rescued.
so your throat got torn and bled from the screeching pleas,
and I answered your calls, draped in gold and opened the rusty iron gates
as I reproached you to get up and flee.
beholding the beauty, never envisaged,
beyond these rusty iron gates.
and more bars dug out of the floor,
yet you never noticed from the blinding gleam of transient gold,
head high, neck craned, you didn't care, and the gold still soared,
as the grotesque fingers took a firm hold.
indeed late you were.
knowledge hurts and it left you scarred.
no knickers, all coats of fur.
the fingers did warp your head hard.
indeed, the truth has been revealed.
and your hands now hold the key,
but a key is no good with a mind that does not see
and with a heart that feels.
