models

Learn more about other poetry terms

Wily charms of erected façades placatethe dissimulated crowds of unreasonabilitywaiting to laud falsity to heights unwarrantedwithin this impossible dream-of-a-life covered by
Um
When I look at their faces, Drenched in perfection, When I flip the pages, I look into their eyes, like they're masked in disguise, they look so ideal, This cannot be real,
She's like a rose that grew out of the concrete. My light in a world of confusion. When she opens her mouth to share her knowledge, Its the greatest gift. I liisten, I take in, I keep what she says forever.
Models are tens, are dressed to the nines, Sneak away with photographers behind closed blinds. Silhouettes pinch at the waist, like the skin on their face, too tight to relax 
I am the object of your affection tantalizing your obsessions To you I am an image to some I am a mirage To me I am nothing Shoot me because I am beautiful Capture my flesh within each pixel
Subscribe to models