She dyed he died…

The dyed red haired girls green gloves
came up under her nose, stifling a yawn
as she stared at the sexy designer dressed
girl in the chequered skirt with stunning
eyes all dreamy.

Perhaps she subdued more than a yawn
while her fingers flicked about her nose
giving her face the impression of a kitten
in comfort surrounded by empty saucers,
whiskers all creamy.

Have I just stumbled upon a look so envious
as to be reckless giving away inner thoughts
of a starry eyed young woman that yearns to
be free of all her past life that she believes
has held her at the rear of others.

But then I turn and see the salacious look
from a male with thoughts of a much more base
nature written on his face that frightens the girl
so now she clutches her handbag she feels has
no use now even though it’s contents held a
gift for her fellow strummers.

He on the other hand felt no fear quite proud
of his cigarette and coffee marked moustache
that he’d grown through years of evasion from
lawmen he felt incompetent and strangled
by regulation.

I was really happy not to be a lawman or
official held back by regulation, and I was
not the shrinking violet type preferring not to
get involved in other peoples problems, especially
when I’d just thought best his conclusion…