There's something so beautiful

About the way bright lipstick

Clings

To a faded cigarette.

She must have been so poised,

Lips pouted perfectly,

With that slender smoke

Gracefully

Cradled against the tip of her tongue.

She must have been beautiful,

Even with that poison between her teeth.

Judged

By society,

Yet confident all the same. 

I wonder...

Did men leap to her aid?

A damsel without a light, but with an

Ache.

A need for simplicity,

Continuation of a dying habit.

But you can't change society.

Hell, you can't truly change yourself.

Maybe it's not really what we need:

Change.

Maybe we need something else.

We don't need an altered life,

Or an altered personality.

Maybe what we really need,

is acceptance.