She put on red nailpolish
Four thick coats
It gleamed like her pride
Of doing it right when she rarely tried

She wore her red nailpolish
But no one seemed to care
A fleeting glance, a passing look But not even one would stare
And say "Your nails are gorgeous, dear!
Where'd you get them done?"
Nowhere, she would reply,
I did it just for fun.
The red nailpolish went unnoticed
Like her efforts to be seen.

The nailpolish began to chip away
Leaving uneven circles of red
Her mother told her it was ugly
And should be removed.
All efforts seemed wasted
Her pride devestated
The nailpolish was unwanted.
Was she?

Or was she just trying to be philisophical
And failing miserably?

-- liz