At 17 Sitti

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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 nights
Charades of youth
Were spent on those more beautiful
At seventeen I learned the truth

And those of us with ravaged faces
Lacking in the social graces
Desperately remained at home inventing lovers on the phone
Who called and say "come dance with me" and murmured vague obscenities
It isn't all it seems at seventeen

A brown eyed girl in hand-me-downs
Whose name I never could pronounce
Said, "Pity, please, the ones who serve
They only get what they deserve
The rich relationed home-town queen
Marries into what she needs
With a guarantee of company
And haven for the elderly"