‘It is waste of money’, ‘Ma’ said
‘What’s with the colour?’, grunted my Dad
‘Show-off’, screamed that little fowl animal named brother
But it only made my decision more stubborn further.
Only if they had an idea,
What that little piece of cosmetic did to my soul,
How it amplifies my being by a sheer red stroke,
Encourages me to buy the richest of brands,
Even if my fashion street leather purse is left all but broke.
So thank you, Red Lipstick.
Be it matte or glossy everything is fine,
Once onto me, they judge me;
Call me names and try to cross the line.
But none of those voices bother me anymore
I take you out of my little ‘make-up’ pouch
Dab you a little more in my selfie camera
And walk with my chin up, head high, to take onto the world;
And churn it up with my glittery shine.
So thank you, Red Lipstick!
You take me out of my mediocrity,
Let me enjoy that extravaganza,
Feel that rush in my blood;
To be the forbidden queen,
Cursed with a sombre herd.
I understand the delusion,
I understand the tricky nuances,
But what when the delusion breaks
And am stuck in the midst of those turning glances.
Irrespective of the gloomy uncertainty,
I still crave for the awe,
Not knowing if it’s really me
Or a shadow of you that I saw.
Hence, I still crave for that mystical glam
Those turning tables, giving all that damn.
So thank you,
I mean it…
Thank you, Red Lipstick!