So proud and haughty.
(And slightly naughty?)
Attempt at hiding the glimpse
Of emotions flair.
Forcing down the twinkling imp.
Pads on lacquer held in lap.
Would a smile really sap
The veneer you harden?
So not to appear to beg the pardon
Of the lower mortals, lesser classes
With laser eyes, these social unordered lasses.
Crossed ankles, uncrossed vision.
An upturned snout shows derision.
What's behind the mannequin you wear?
Is it joyous, clever, or is nothing there?
That's what people expect, isn't it?
But I don't think that. Not one bit!
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