Misnomer

The sky was filled with starlight, clear as transparent glass. Yet everyone seemed uptight - the judges who ruled en masse, earthly stars who shone over-bright. A winner would be chosen tonight - one whose talent could not pass, one whose speaking would ignite, one whose manner boasted crass one whose dress was way-too-tight, Miss Nomer true, would have no might. yet she’d become the favored lass who'd speak out for her city's spite - in a state of civil impasse, with its past of assault outright. The sky transparent filled the night the starlight was but broken glass. The also-rans who rued their plight attacked Miss Nomer's verbal sass who stood her ground with sharp backbite. September 5, 2021