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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
Copyright ©
Reason A. Poteet
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