Making the world more perfect
Making the world more perfect
My name is Jennifer Anne Blacksmith, fourty and therefore not the youngest, many young women I cannot compete with, not filigrane, always built the strongest
Look at the advertisment on the street young, perfect, like this they smile at them they are the reason I have no man to meet All that matters, sex sells tells even Uncle Sam
You might have might have seen me in the fashion store, all those, wonderful, beautiful clothing, I can't bear it The new parisian designer jeans, I just stood before crying at home over the fact I will not be able to wear it
I am different and not what all the males expect all my life, I have been laughed at, pushed around I was the object on which the hate was to project always and ever the ugliest being in the crowd
They never care for that is to find in my soul if you do not offer what are wishing for then you are pushed aside for their sexy idol who cares for values in the depth of your core?
I have tried so hard to keep on going depression, frustation and desperation the only things which were growing Okay, I got it, I am nothing for this nation!
All you young and beatiful listen to me as I load this gun and do want you want me too just take a moment, focus once on me so you see
I am making this world more perfect,
Just... for you?