Vanity Flare
Beneath the hot Summer sun,
Bathed in pools of sweat.
Cooking of my skin begun,
And it wasn't noon yet.
I felt my forehead fry,
And my whole body quiver.
In the heat of July,
It was baking my liver.
I hoped for a cloud,
And prayed for a drizzle.
I even shouted out loud,
But it continued to sizzle.
After two to three hours,
Had to rethink my plan.
Crusty by blistering powers,
Was no way to tan.
Copyright © Randy Freie | Year Posted 2022
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