I'm no doll, I don't give a damn about delivering , dainty diction,
in some dazzling yet dreadful manner
for you to decide to use as demonstrations of my dignity as daftness.
I refuse to stay in your pocket like Polly,
promenading on this preset, plastic path,
that was purposely presented as a part of me.
I"m no Bikini wearing Barbara, who's balling with her
bombshell blond, big boobed, beautiful body only to be bestrewed,
to babies as belladonna, who are bothered by inadequacy as a byproduct.
I"m a woman waiting woefully, for the world to recognize my wholeheartedness,
as weaponry, or my wondrous wisdom I wear within my womb,
instead of wrapping me in worthlessness, like I'm wrong for wanting more.