That Kind of Girl

You look at me
And accuse me.

You accuse me
Of being
That kind of girl.

What kind of girl?
Of what am I accused?

Should my guilt be rooted
In the attention I gain
From the men and the boys
Who worship your pain?

You accuse me.

I never turned his head.
I never drew his eye.
At least not by my will.
No, I only walked by.

That kind of girl.
That kind of bitch.
That kind of whore,
Scratching his itch.

You accuse me.
Innocent little me.
And he walks away.
While you accuse me.

Open your eyes.

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Comments 3 comments

Tanya 5 years ago

Bravo! Bravo! i will never understand why some women always want to blame the women their men are chasing. Great hub!


Laurelei 5 years ago

That is the most awesome thing I have ever read on here! Hells yeah!


Smith N. Wesson 5 years ago

I would have to say that is about the most awesome poem I have read in awhile. Not that I read a lot of poems, but still awesome and so very on point.

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