Middle Class White Guy
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Alternative Beauty

Beauty surrounds me like nothing from Earth
Beauty out of place in the same world as me
Your hair is like metal, your flesh like a petal
Too good to be real, like I'm watching TV
A goddess is walking, I'm feeling like crying
It's hard to breathe, though that may be the speed
A sculpture in motion by a god with a vision
Every inch has a purpose, every ounce has a need

My blandness is blasphemy, my presence profanity,
To reach out, to touch, but this feels like a gallery
To profane such a face with inadequate grace
To defile such a vision with grovelled sincerity

One sight of you and my hormones are racing
Ten thousand calories from eye candy eating
The slope of your hip, the ring in your lip
The flash of your thigh I can see when you're dancing

My wardrobe's inadequate, I'm not in the same league
Not playing the same game, not real enough for her
A pauper at a strip show, a cop at a rave
A fan-boy at a premier, an ageing voyeur
Shallow as a christian, dull as a vicar
Bland as a talk show, futile as virtue
A rabbit in headlights, a smudge on the radar
Despite all my efforts, I'm still just an amateur

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