BENEATH HER RED DRESSES

lady-in-redThey call her baby, but she walks like a woman
I’m somewhat struck with the smartness she sprays
They chase her just like a dog that’s on heat
Would keep on wanting a lover to mate
Who is she when her head is not in the books
Who is she when she’s not smoking hot in red
Can someone find out the mystery she is
Before she gives up on life, love and dreams.

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