Ode to a Young Buck in a Liquor Store.

I couldn’t help but to smile under my Jackie O’s,

after being hit on by some 20-year-old,

who stared like I was a spread-eagle centerfold,

a boost to my battered and tattered ego,

 

I was dressed like a Female Assassin en Vogue,

a hoodie and shades, cause that’s just how I roll,

but the kid still told me that I was beautiful,

as he passed me by on his way out the door.