The Beauty Cursed with the Pretty Face 27 Monday Nov 2017 Posted by Horsey in poem ≈ Leave a comment Tagsbeauty, music industry, poem, poetry, sexualisation, social commentary, society Armed with only words and voice, And a guitar free of audacious drum or bass, She mesmerised her entire world: The beauty cursed with a pretty face. Her words honest to her generation’s lives, Ambiguous love stories nowhere to be traced. Her tales were real and raw as life: The beauty cursed with a pretty face. Her voice would trickle with highland springs, Soft howls like the wolves once roaming St Andrew’s place. The most gorgeous thing one’s ears had seen: The beauty cursed with a pretty face. Her instrument was a ferocious foe To any dire digitised aggressive pace. Like any threat, it had to be stopped: The beauty cursed with a pretty face. O the joyous unspoilt noise, That absolutely nothing could replace. Still, they had to ruin it in the end: The beauty cursed with a pretty face. Following their genitals and not their ears, All they saw was that pretty face. They paid her well to strip her soul: The beauty cursed with a pretty face. Speaking with more flesh than words: Designed to compete in a financial chase. Persuaded by big numbers, she’s sold and labelled: The product cursed with a pretty face. For all time, is this our path? Where he will always exploit her grace. For all time, will he just overlook The beauty cursed with a pretty face?