When I was a senior in high school I was hanging out with a crowd that was significantly older than me. Of this group, Jeanette was my favorite. I wrote this poem about her shortly before my senior prom. When I was home last weekend I didn't think to ask about Jeanette. It was quite a whirlwind trip, after all. I hope that wherever she is, she's happy. She was such a beautiful soul.
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| For this week's #TBT photo, you're just going to have to check out the Facebook page. |
Her name's Jeanette
And she's a stripper
I think I'd trip in her shoes
If I had to walk a mile.
She's a stripper
And I push heart attacks
Through the window at
The local Dairy Queen.
She's a stripper
While I'm tucked away in bed
My head full of heaven and hell
She's for sale off 207.
She's a stripper
I'm a walking, talking lie
So you cry anymore
When he compares you to Jezebel?
Are you scared
When you twist around the pole?
Was your innocence stolen?
Your pride and your shame?
Her name's Jeanette
And she's a stripper
She supports him
Though he doesn't date "her kind."
Her name's Jeanette
And she's a stripper.
I want to save her
From what I see as a crime.
When her nail polish flakes
And she's dozing off over there,
The light and the night make her beautiful -
I just can't do anything but stare.
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