I learned the truth at seventeen_ That love was meant for beauty queens and high school girls with clear skinned smiles who married young and then retired The valentines I never knew, the friday nights, charades of youth were spent on one more beautiful_ At seventeen I learned the truth
And those of us with ravaged faces, lacking in the social graces Desp’ratly re[mained at home inventing lovers on the phone Who called and say “come dance with me” and murmured vague obscenities It isn’t all it seems at seventeen
A brown eyed girl in hand-me-downs, whose name I never could pronounce said “Pity, please, the ones who serve, they only get what they deserve. The rich relationed home-town queen marries into what she needs A guarantee of company and haven for the elderly”
Remember those who win the game, lose the love they sought to gain In debentures of quality and dubious integrity_ Their small town eyes will gape at you in dull surprise when payment due exceeds accounts received at seventeen
To those of us who know the pain of valentines that never came, and those whose name were never called when choosing side at basketball It was long ago and far away_ The world was younger than today and dreams were all they gave for free to ugly duckling girls like me
We all play the game and when we dare to cheat ourselves at solitaire Inventing lovers on the phone, repenting other lives unknown that call and say “Come dance with me”, and murmur vague obscenities at ugly girls like me, at seventeen
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Copy to Clipboard: I learned the truth at seventeen_ That love was meant for beauty queens and high school girls with clear skinned smiles who married young and then retired The valentines I never knew, the friday nights, charades of youth were spent on one more beautiful_ At seventeen I learned the truth
And those of us with ravaged faces, lacking in the social graces Desp’ratly re[mained at home inventing lovers on the phone Who called and say “come dance with me” and murmured vague obscenities It isn’t all it seems at seventeen
A brown eyed girl in hand-me-downs, whose name I never could pronounce said “Pity, please, the ones who serve, they only get what they deserve. The rich relationed home-town queen marries into what she needs A guarantee of company and haven for the elderly”
Remember those who win the game, lose the love they sought to gain In debentures of quality and dubious integrity_ Their small town eyes will gape at you in dull surprise when payment due exceeds accounts received at seventeen
To those of us who know the pain of valentines that never came, and those whose name were never called when choosing side at basketball It was long ago and far away_ The world was younger than today and dreams were all they gave for free to ugly duckling girls like me
We all play the game and when we dare to cheat ourselves at solitaire Inventing lovers on the phone, repenting other lives unknown that call and say “Come dance with me”, and murmur vague obscenities at ugly girls like me, at seventeen
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