THE IDOL

She’s an idol

An icon of emotional stimulation

She lives in a generation that defines her worth by the size of her backside and the weight of her before

She struggles to be accepted so she goes as far as faking her identity with those implants that in the end make her look like a failed lab experiment

And every time she walks by Men don’t see beauty

But all they see is a mobile bedroom with a voluptuous Delilah seeking for warmth

Thoughts of her rush through folds of skin like summer time breeze

Reaching the scalp of memories

She’s been exploited by those supposed to protect her

As they make her body the center of attraction in music videos and strip clubs

She lives every day with the scars glued to her gender

And if only the world could see the tears behind her smile

That she’s much more than a sex idol

Much more than a statue of self satisfaction

That her dignity has been trampled upon like rags by men who ignore her essence

If only nature would teach these modern day men that she’s more than one night stands and date nights

More than moans and an experiment for sex positions

And until the world sees her as good news

Nothing will ever get right