You spend your entire childhood
jealous
of the pretty girls
dreaming that if you just had that face too
how much better life would be
but you don’t so you learn to read
you don’t so you learn to listen
you don’t so you speak five languages
and can hold an interesting conversation
with anyone that you meet.
You never could pull off pretty
But by being funny and kind
You managed to get a husband
and kids and a dog
and a book club and to be the hostess
every new year’s eve.
It turned out alright….and what of the pretty girls?
It must be so much better for them, you think
until you go to vegas and see their faces on the ground
pretty girl pictures everywhere
half off hot girls
delivered to your room
until you ask for a drink and every pretty girl
you ever dreamed you could be
is the same one serving you chicken or wine
single; no children; lots of dreams and ambition
to one day turn that pretty smile into millions
unconcerned with a plan b or the age of 40
and all this time you have been jealous of them
since childhood you said
and jealousy leads no where
but down envy street
where hate blinds you into thinking
she is better than me.