Beautiful dress.

Beautiful dress.

It’s a beautiful dress.

When I first saw it

it reminded me of

a sunset,

tiger lilies,

bright and colorful,

not overwhelming,

but strong.

It’s a beautiful dress.

And I know I look beautiful in it.

It’s the color of

mint juleps

with peach and

tangerine

blossoms

obstructing the mint pond.

It’s a beautiful dress

and I’m a beautiful girl,

but I have no date for prom.

It’s such a pathetic and insignificant problem,

in comparison to

the problem’s of other girls my age.

I have never had to walk

miles upon miles

to get water for my family.

I have never had to

drop out of school

so my brother can eat.

I have never had to

ponder, “Why, Why me?”

I have never had to

read a pregnancy test that said positive.

I have never had to

live with the trauma that comes with sexual assault and rape.

I have never had to

live as a refuge.

But I still have no date for prom,

beautiful dress and all.

My beautiful dress has a tag

that reads,

“Made in China,”

and I don’t want to think about

how much

the people who made my

beautiful dress

were paid.

Of course I wish all of these problems could dissolve,

no more devastation,

starvation,

and instead,

more elation,

exclamations,

and joyful emotion.

But I’d still wish I had a prom date,

after all those other,

more important things,

were solved.

 

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