I learned the truth at seventeen that love was meant for beauty queens
And high school girls with clear-skinned smiles who married young and then retired.
The valentines I never knew, the Friday night charades of youth were spent on one more beautiful.
At seventeen I learned the truth.
And those of us with ravaged faces, lacking in the social graces,
Desperatly remained at home,
inventing lovers on the phone
Who called to say, Come dance with me, and murmured vague obscenities.
It isnt all it seems at seventeen .
A brown-eye