Monday, 2 May 2016

Tatted Angel (The Raconteur)


She's the girl every girl looks up to,
She's the girl most parents wish was theirs,
The girl every guy wish was his.
Her modesty, she portrays, 
Makes her the girl everyone wanted around.

Orphan girl from a young age,
She struggled with her grandmother who taught her the core values of a lady.
She listened to grandma,
As grandma's words brought that of wisdom.
Grandma's words gave her guidance and made her the girl everyone wanted around them,
At least it seemed but there was more of her that was far from their eyes.

A young beautiful girl,
She's seen her friends attain some kind of "next level",
She feels detached from her friends she's done everything with.
Grandma's words knocks on her membrane,
She has an inner conversation with her conscience,
She's faced with two different choices that could well pan out her life overtime.

She visualises herself a superstar,
The visions of the glamour attain heights in her mind,
Which then made grandma's words less remembered,
She's deviated from her lessons.
The weekend is where she becomes her true self in the big city,
During the week she feels caged under grandma's umbrella.
She's become a different kind of Angel she's known for,
Her new found way now wanders the path of the dark angel.

Her mouth has become smoother than that of oil,
And her lips sweeter than that of honey,
Her path is that of the highway to hell,
With remains of a woodworm.
Do you wanna wander this path?

Tatted Angel,
In a black and white world, 
Her true colours show.
Dark shades she has on,
I lost count at 50 but I know she's one shy of 70 so oftentimes she settles for 69.

Her demons oftentimes approach my soul,
Potna!!!
Don't let the devil in.
I'm the last piece to her jigsaw,
I'm one more to her 70.

                                                         -Devante.