I glide the coloured bullet across my mouth,
And I feel it's a sin,
That lipstick is the curse of a witch,
The work of the devil,
Even when I'm kind and wholesome:
Thoughts and actions I pitch.
I am not a tart, and yes,
I am smart, I just have bad habits,
Like wearing lipstick!
I'm also honest to the point of being rude,
I say my thoughts with little care.
I have vampire blood red nails,
And am the hardest in the class,
I drink beer and am tough,
Being a hard girl is just me,
I just cannot get enough.
My bedroom, however, is neat and tidy,
I am very organised,
But I talk too long on the telephone:
I have friends to impress,
If they're to stick around!
Writing of impressing my friends:
I wear lipstick to look sexy,
The guys love women like me,
And I don't just wear red:
I wear fuchsias, oranges and pinks,
Colour is an instinct,
When I don't have to think.
But I am not a lipstick whore:
I have standards, and crave respect and more,
My wholesome life with some sexy moments,
Being something of which I could not be more sure.
I celebrate my beauty with pretty lipstick,
And I look top class,
Because I am a woman of the future,
And shall do as she pleases,
Never having to ask permission.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem