Punk Rock Princess

Rockin' the heels
and rockin' the lips.
Rockin' the boots
with the rockin' hips.
Bangin' the eyes
and bangin' the head.
Bangin' the music
'til the music's dead.
A sweater to show
the straps she's proud of,
no shame in the style
she's never out of.
Long sleeves even
when it's in the 90s,
it's almost impossible
for a man to find these.
Black eyeliner
with the leather jacket
and the studded belt
on the ripped jeans to match it.
Maybe a vest
or maybe without,
maybe the peace
or maybe the shout.
Pointed shoes
'round rounded toes
belonging to a girl
with a name no one knows.
Pockets with hands
so often found in
but never another's,
always and only her own thins.
The killer blue eyes
that rise above
thought of war
or even love,
above the rest
who only covet what's missed,
she's the one
with the rubies to be kissed
but the illusive prize
will stay unowned,
this punk rock princess
only all to her own.