A shear with from her arrogant move
pulls up the rear hushes disapprove
crushes make her cheeks turn red
horror penetrates her subdued blush,
Black lines expose the twisted spurs
gossip plays with her bottom lures
doomed she walks the ramps edge
in roars and shouts to random catcalls,
Poor soul carries her bag in hops
catches her dismay as she drops
hell before heaven in her the fall
a swift soft kiss comforts the doll,
Obscure or flagrant her decline was fine
she romps their heart; future looks divine!
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