Yesterday's Lipstick

Happiness is not a place.

Happiness is a feeling.

It can be present in the darkest ghetto.

And absent in the largest mansion.

You can't buy my love,

You have to earn it through your actions.

Yesterday's lipstick is smeared on the truth.

Smeared around all the lies that come out of your mouth.

Changing your place of residence,

Changes nothing.

You still lack love in your heart,

And feel the need to manipulate those around you.

I believed in your lies at first.

Until I was hit with a hard dose of truth.

No matter where I live,

It does not change who I am spiritual.

Bugs feast on me each night.

I am their food source.

I am their life blood.

I keep them alive.

And I question why I am drawn to needy people.

Why it fulfills me to fix other's problems.

You can lead the thirsty horse to water.

But try not to get too upset when it refuses to drink.

We each make our own hell in this life.

It is not my job to save everyone else's soul.

Some people deserve to burn in their hell.

Some need to learn these life lessons alone.

Yesterday's lipstick is smeared on my memories.

It leaves a dark red stain around my lips.

It reminds me of truths, now discovered,

That will never wash away.

I can dream of my fancy mansion.

But only I can earn the money to afford it.

Only I can make this life change happen.

I can't leech onto someone else and force them to make my dreams come true.

I have to make it in this world alone.

And if I can't be happy in my own skin.

I will never be happy with someone else.

The girl who doesn't know who she is,

Will never change.

She will adapt like a chameleon to her surroundings.

She will make you question your own insecurity.

She will spread her legs for anyone,

And let the insects in.

This disease will rot the minds of good men,

And sailors alike.

Because a women's naked body mesmerizes a man's mind like nothing else.

And they lose their mind over a piece of ass.

Yesterday's lipstick is smeared on my vacation.

And if you think this is about you.

Then it probably is about someone like you.

Those who manipulate and use others to get their piece of the cake.

Their throne in the kingdom.

Their house in the hills.

Paid for by some sad sap,

Who was lonely and looking for companionship.

Women who don't work for their own things in life, her little respect from me.

She feels like God owes her,

the key to the kingdom.

A drink from the golden chalice.

But no one can turn water into wine,

Without hard work.

Look at those women making a life for themselves.

Rising above failure,

And not having their only goal in life to get married and have children.

Children should not be your only goal in life.

Along with the rich guy who you will marry and will buy you a house.

What happened to marry for love?

Not for who ever will buy you the nicer car?

I am breeding for a nose.

You are all disqualified from my reality show.

I know what your real nose looked like,

Before the plastic surgery corrected it.

I liked your real nose better.

It wasn't filled with lies.

I was impressed with its imperfections.

And how you embraced them.

Happiness is not a place.

It's a feeling.

You still lack love in your heart.

I see through your intentions.

And if I don't make you look more popular,

Then I am not a part of your plan.

I am not the purebred dog you carry in your purse.

I am not your human trophy.

Yet ironically.

You are a human trophy to your husband.

You got your fancy mansion.

You achieved your lifetime goal.

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