i'm waiting for that dress in the window to be marked down,
it fits me just perfectly.
i have no money to buy it, what should i do?
i know, recheck my contact list, there has
to be someone that still has even a smigdeon
of feeling left for me.
i have no conscience, what's it to me,
as long as i get what i desire,
i care not if i bring out their ire.
maybe if i had a conscience,
maybe if i was born with a soul,
maybe i could cry.
once a whore always a whore.
no matter, in my collapse, i can create a disguise.
should you have went to the psyche ward,
they would have kept your manipulative ass.
there is no cure for lack of feeling,
there is no manner of pills that will cure your ills.
you know nothing of love,
the girl who views people through
predatory eyes,
only sees others as prey.
you have no integrity.
you have no true grit.
if the eyes are the windows into the
soul, yours are busted out,
you have no soul.
i dedicate this to a monster who stalks among us, be careful out there.
copyright, 2010, terri l. gillentine, all rights reserved
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