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Lost...

She dresses for his eyes alone
He's thirty, rich and handsome
Well-heeled and drives the latest steed
Right-side of tracks, is where he's from

All eyes upon her entrance
She walks the runway of the street
“ I am the queen of drama;
the best you'll ever meet”

Her entourage, smile or sneer,
depending on her mood
She waves her hand; as if to steer
through the crowd of crude

An old man's gaze, the poor-man's drool;
she ain't having none of that
Don't look at her, don't think you're cool
unless your wallet's fat

One night of careless pleasure
She forgot about the measures
Drunk and drugged, she was
She fucked him, just because

Now, T.V. is her company
Girl-friends gone to party down
Her prince has come and gone
The baby cries too much

Momma said; there would be days like this...

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Last few words: 
I was writing this before Stan's workshop was announced and when I thought of entering it, I went and read the syllabus. I was very confused and said to myself; "Self, just forget it!" I think this is about as close to 'Morphing' poetry as you are going to get." Maybe if I watch and see what everyone else is doing I will see how to do it. Anyways, this is what my idea of 'Morphing poetry'.
Editing stage: 

Comments

Your last stanza gets somwhat jumbled as if you did not know how to end it. Other than that the rest of the poem shines

Chrys
Let your mercy spill on all these burning hearts in hell(Leonard Cohen)

trying to get the change; such as the Morphing poetry, maybe I should add another stanza to make the change?
Then it won't seem as jumbled? Thanks for the read and critique. ~ Gee

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