Touch Her oh so Oval, Hopeful Eyes.
When you look into her eyes, you’ll see a slight glimmer of hope
That’s fading in a blizzard of snow, making her spend winters at home.
She sits there alone, kissing the filtered butt of her regal cigarette
Letting the nicotine corrode her blood and now she’s an inch from death.
She doesn’t want death to get to her
But it’s hard considering she’s a chain smoker.
And she just wants a man to rest with her
But it’s hard to look appealing when her frame’s broken.
It’s not all about the "sex" with her; she never demanded this pain,
But she grew up this way and it seems she has no chance to change.
So she never asks their names. It’s not as if she has a lot to lose,
She just fucks them, takes their money and walks away a prostitute.
Now her opal eyes are open wide, glazed over in a lofty, angry stare,
And she’s paralysed to stop staring through her golden cotton candy hair.
But when you look into his eyes, you’ll see a man with no remorse.
A man so cold he knows he’s horny enough to fuck a coldly corpse.
So it’s not difficult to understand how easily he entered her slender thighs
And built her with false hopes that "making love" would mend her tender cries.
But now it’s "Enter life" cause his dick was unprotected inside her,
He said,
"Maybe I’ll call you"
Then left, and never attempted to find her.
So she never saw that man again. She only holds one memory of him,
And that is the tiny cancerous baby caged inside her ebony skin.
And every night her slender thighs ache. She still bears her tender cries,
So we call that man a necrophiliac, cause it’s ironic how she’s now dead inside.
All her life she had tried to find
A smiling child,
But she can never dry her eyes
Since her hopes have already died inside.
It’s clear her life is so rugged and rough that it’s too sharp to touch,
Her eyes are the key… But she just never looked hard enough.
With one hand she starts to clutch her oval stomach, she can feel him
While the other hand is permanently sowed to a cancer stick that’s feeding
Tiny balls of black down the umbilical cord into her baby’s bloodstream.
But sunscreen won’t protect her baby’s charred skin. She’s had enough, she
Just wishes she had held a decent job that offered a proper home
Instead of being fucked by an old man in a Buick when her water broke.
She just wishes she had never started smoking in the first place
Instead of receiving a burnt "bundle of joy" on her baby’s first birthday.
If she had have used her brain and the key in her eyes, she would’ve seen…
But it’s too late for "what ifs" and "could’ve beens”
"It’s a little late for an abortion…" and she began to pour her eyes out.
"I’m sorry, but there’s no chance of this baby being born alive now."
The doctor’s voice was harsh but true. There was slight worry in his eyes,
"You’ll never be able to have a baby again" and she replied "But surely in time
I’ll be able to" and the doctor simply lowered his head and left the room.
She cried into her eyes. Her baby would die. She had nothing left to do.
All she needed was a romancer in her life, and it angers me every time
That the cancer she holds inside has left her with no chance to hold a life.
But all along, the answer was in her eyes:
She was just too blind to see it.
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