Rosy Strain of Grass
Under her Maybelline brand eyeliner
And her cute tops and pastel colored skirts,
I can see the imperfections on her
A rose to a strain of grass she converts
Her pictures don’t show her not-so-straight teeth
Or the zits and small hairs upon her face
She is scared to show what’s underneath
Her clothes; Those flaws she wishes to efface
Around adults, she hides her “shits” and “fucks”
But whilst with her friends she tends to let loose
Her peers still don’t know her when not amuck
When she’s alone, she acts like a recluse
I see this rose how others do not see
Because this rose is actually me