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High Street

High heels like peacocks on stilts
Eyes piercing like porcupine spikes
Bear heavy mascara like war paint
Lips so red like they’ve never been kissed

We suit up for the show down
The wardrobe mirror decides the crown

Our sway leading the way
Our e-goes leave the driveway
To jam the payroll en route the freeway
As we carve a niche along the concrete pathway

Dark sunglasses for added couture
Style galore in ‘Mzazi fosho!’

These are high stakes
The fashion police issue hefty fines for any mistakes
Sanctioning you off the fashion calendar
No points for ‘colour blockin’ and poor posture
The isle to the photocopier becomes the runway
The city streets become the fashion highways

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things