At first I didn´t realize your hair was dyed
I hadn´t noticed your long legs, your longer heels,
and your poor taste in choosing the tightest jeans.
So many were called and so few were chosen,
the pattern was “tall rich empty headed, a good trophy”
no doubt a winner in the rat race.
The clinking clanking of high heels
in high school corridors
filled so much empty space
so many heads to turn
so many victories ahead
and then why feel you are nothing
unless your credit card depletes
where is the dream? what is the need?
dumbells raised in the sweatiest gyms
what ever happened to the ugly duck
turned beast?
Well expressed, although the last stanza is a bit obscure to me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
where is the dream? what is the need? dumbells raised in the sweatiest gyms what ever happened to the ugly duck turned beast? Amigo Luis, let me see, i believe you say she had no dreams and there was no need fo her to be as she was....so materialistic. She was ugly inside and outside and in this case the ugly duckling never turned into a swan but a beast instead as her inside never changed and you wonder what happened to her. The beauty of your poem is it can be seen from different prespectives.