Just a Girl

A poem I wrote the other day about Tenele...

With a hat tilted sideways,
She struts the streets of Manzini,
A see-through white top
Barley meets the top of her jeans,
Exposing her butterfly belt buckle.

Men call to her;
Women stare at her;
The wrong people know her.

She has few friends,
too many “lovers.”
She lies about them
to cover it up;
She lies with them
to make a living.
But if you look into her eyes
you’ll see her eyes never lie.

Her eyes are like dark chocolate against her fair-black skin.
They glisten with beauty of youth;
Yet, the wrinkles tell of her pain—
pain that has aged her,
pain she ignores,
pain that gives her money,
pain she has accepted as life.

Her eyes… they never lie.

At night they are dark and tainted--
Bitter and jaded while she works.
In the day, the sunlight sometimes catches
A glimpse of the girlish dreams inside.

Her eyes are piercing,
Like the knife she holds.
She can be cruel, so full of hatred,
But her eyes are full of desperation--
A desire to simply be loved.

Her eyes…they never lie.

She lives like she is 21;
She claims that she is 17;
But her eyes say she is only 14,
Just a girl.

She’s just a girl.

A girl with a hat tilted sideways
Hiding her shame.
A see-through white top
Calling for attention.
A butterfly belt buckle
Wishing she could fly away

Men grab for her;
Women scoff at her;
The wrong people know her.

Who will love her?