Sunday, 12 September 2010

Nothing'll cure this

Girls please, ladies, you don't know what your getting
Yourselves into saving pennies scraping together
Cash borrowed from brothers dads boyfriends
Scraping barrels to get close enough to show
Off to champagne swilling premier league

Panacea is not a cure for your unemployment
Panacea is not going to make problems turn invisible

You used to want to be in childcare or HR
You wanted to be a leading lady or on TOTP's

How you've changed

Wraparound glitter sluts
Faces plastered powdered orange
Belt skirts riding high
Acrylic finger and toe nails

You live in hope
For hopeless men
With cunt agents and more money
Earnt a week than your parents
Put together a year

Your brothers want to be
What you want to fuck and suck
In brightly lit nightclub toilets
So you can skip uni and waste life
Wearing tracksuits in mansions
Watching numb soaps reality
Television and talking on mobile phones
To the ones in the same boat
About handbags and perfume

But you can't mask the smell of stupid
And garish clothes won't keep a man
Coming back to you and baba
When there's the next herd queuing up
Scraping together to show off more
Than you did

1 comment:

  1. Gareth, bravo! That is quite different from your day to day poetry.
    it reads like a song, thank you!!