How much you know
Is how much I said,
Much like window,
Not the door that led.
What you think,
Am I made of pink?
Don't give me that look,
It's you who mistook...
You called it dust,
Another glitters of lust.
You think I'm flaunting it,
When it's you making it.
Haunting me from myself,
Naming slut itself...
My red coloured lip,
Jeans tighten at hip,
Hair tied in bun,
Shorts in scorching sun,
My top so crop,
Making so many mouths drop.
I need no attention,
I'm who I'm, I mention...
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