Vanished Charm [Not An Object]

Behind the counter, I serve the customers.
You step up, waiting patiently.
Our eyes meet, we maintain our contact.
Slowly, a smile edges onto your lips.

As I take your order, our contact breaks.
Your eyes wander, no longer focused on my face.
As you seem to evaluate me, watch my mouth tighten.

Flattery slowly turns to disgust:
Why does it always end like this?
Whatever charm you may have just vanished.

Quickly, I hand over your order, disgusted.
As you turn to walk away, "jerk" escapes my lips.
You whirl to face me, as I flash you my smile.

You picked the wrong girl to treat as an object.

*yeah... not really a poem, but i'm pissed. i absolutely can't stand it when a guy undresses u with his eyes... that's just completely disrespectful... and don't even get me started with the honking and whistling!.. am i the only one who gets frustrated?!