She is a top floor of beauty with no flaws..
Used to be a slimy night goddess in our alley with thick jaws...
Raised in hell downtown..
Now living the life in a haven uptown.. .
Turned too perfect a square to fit in our city so small and round...
Swift like the weather she's evolved..
Behind her fell the other silly dames in the city..
Shame they got chewed up and spit out fast in a pity..
Now she is, a lone blooming wild flower sprung from the dirty wealth of our city..
She's made it here just by her wits and tits...
She is a redefinition of class..
With exquisite style trend blends of Versace and Balenciaga...
Roamed to off the shores across Casablanca and Madagascar...
Round the world she's been like the equator..
At last she arrived her dreams though through the back door...
Still despair looms her amidst the fancy glitz...
Often Something's got her pupils dilating in her closet..
Perhaps its her living wrong for so long in the process..
Already her soul's torn apiece by angels and demons playing war tugs...
Can't there be a fast way that's not wrong to make it young?
©Tor Val
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