Hot Mess

"Hot Mess"

She tumbles out of bed from a dream,

Sauntering down the hall late again.

Covers up her face with cream,

Concealing remains of where she's been.

Trying to Escape this Rat Race,

Harboring her countenance Flaunts.

Stress buried behind a Pretty Face,

Disaster advancing on all Fronts.

Hair sways above her ass,

Looking just like a Princess.

Futile to leave the Morass,

Another Week day Hot Mess.

4-19-2012 12:57am
Poem #14