some ask me why my main pursuit in life is not the goal to fit into a size three suit or be a better hole for men to echo their regards to beauty and to lust which selfish duty then discards and leaves a broken trust some ask me why i wear the veil despite my lack of faith in magic demon gods for sale $19.95 wraith reserve the sight of my dear thighs for those with whom i lie denying the so gaudy eyes and hording my supply some then accuse me of affront to some bizarre birthright of access options for their shunt to drain my inner light and when denied or informed then they claim my value none tis strange to me most often when they don't pursue this one when i'm attempting to explain they do not understand and clinging to their mythos slain they turn to curse my man make him unhappy with his prize they cannot even see citing the best known to their eyes comparing them to me but looking at the flimsy scraps of remnants of discards a full hand's breadth between the gaps if diamond but mere shards imagining the how and why not finding lives of toil but choices based on averages as heady as corn oil a mix of pity and of fright his sorrow for them shows and though he tries to be polite his passion must oppose how can you not see their great pain he asks the men of theirs how can you put them through this game of manufactured cares and then from pity fright to love he takes them in his arms and says though i am taken still i recognize your charms and we together feed the starved if nothing but our love and whether bare of head or scarved teach them to rise above this game of beauty beaten down until it's foil of tin and but a mirror for a man a cylinder of sin