She sat beside her mother,
that bored teenager.
She’s natural beauty bound.
She yawned and frowned.

She’s not interested at all
in what the speaker
was trying to say.
Success stories her mind
wouldn’t want to reach.

She has all the cliches:
dark blonde hair,
teenager t-shirt
with mosaic pants.

She picked her fingers while
peeping over her mother’s phone.
What is she texting?
No pics. No emoji. None.

For a moment, her only comfort
was the sense of irrelevance
by sitting there but
not being present. Yawn.

She was standing beside
a post-event conversation,
legs crossed, arms wrapped.
Definitely. Not. Interested.

She passed by, revealing
her father’s rough face.
She’s no beauty at all.
Just a girl north of adult’s way.

{END}