We're Beautiful, and we're Smart; Ver. 1

We're beautiful, we're smart. And all those

Hating us, loving us, we're more beautiful than they could ever be.

They know it; they hate us, they love

Us. They're just human after all. We're smarter than you never

Knew: shh, shh. How could you be smarter than us? I'll reveal to you

Why we never had to do our homework,

And could pretend we were never given homework at school.

We have two teachers – one in school, one for us,

And only us.

In school we turn our test papers into rubbish –

At home, we are so brilliant. I must say, my tutor is a brilliant thing.

Graduated from university when we were in high school,

And he's only two years older than me… What? Need you ask if he looks good?

Daddy said he'd find the best,

And only the best, for me. We're as far as perfect goes;

You could say we're perfect. You know the girls with the pretty voices?

Rough isn't rough, we make it husky.

High-pitched isn't annoying. It's just so cute, it irritates you. And

When angels speak even in monotone, the greyest of their voices, to humans it's a song.

They tell you it's the confidence, baby, it's the confidence, but

That's just a lie. We're the real deal, you're just imitators.

Gold is gold, silver could lay in the sunlight and pretend its gold, that's what

They're telling you to do: it's the confidence, it's the confidence.

Our souls could never not feel worth it, you know what I mean?

Insecurity is just so another planet, just a word in the dictionary. Spells like i-n-s-e-c-u-r-i-t-y,

Feels like?

You know the girls with money because we work your dream job?

Our bags suck –

Boring;

Squarish and never creasing and prints that never smudge without purpose, and leather,

Leather, leather, but

It's the price tag, it's the logo printed repeatedly over it; you could never miss it,

And you could never miss me, baby.

We look good, we don't have any sense of fashion, but

Is it about a sense of fashion? If our clothes spell money, you know what to do: shut up,

Cos' criticizing us only makes you look bad in eventual, eventual.

And when they discovered the secret to beautiful hair, we're the first

To step in the lab, and then we earn them money – didn't you see us in the secret-to-beautiful-hair poster?

We never told you to buy the secret. You can't

Just find it in the bottom shelf of some random mart.

It's like laughable.

It's like, stupid. And you know trends?

They don't just fall from the sky. They fall from heaven, and

Ladies and gentlemen, I'm a walking paradise. I smell like heaven, taste like heaven, look like heaven.


Had a different... completely different idea of what I wrote. When I started, I wrote: We're beautiful, we're smart. We have faith; we know it, we created it. We weren't born with a spoon in our mouths, but what difference does it make?

And somehow, it led to THIS poem, about girls who were born with GOLD spoons in their mouths, and girls who destroy, utterly destroy faith. And this poem sucks anyway. No planning was done, just impulsive ideas and words that would-do.

Eep! Please, before you click that review button, I know you were going to, weren't cha? Let me down easy!

Good night, even if it's morning or lunch time or fuck time.