He calls me pretty
I’m hoping that he means
Pretty strong, or pretty smart
pretty funny, but it seems
My worth is tied to shallow things
To bare or rather covered skin
He calls me pretty
I’m hoping he implies
Pretty fun, bretty brave
pretty honest, pretty wise
But my hairless legs and painted eyes
are servants to his sexist mind
He calls me pretty
I’m hoping he connotes
Pretty kind, pretty cool
pretty artsy, pretty bold
But my looks seem far more interesting
than anything that lives within
And while I tell myself that i am more
than heels that make my feet all sore
Still I’m reminded every day,
that I should look a certain way
By hairy men without a shirt
commenting on my summer skirt
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