She is 20,
Young and beautiful,
Dressed in the latest trends,
Exploring places,
Capturing moments—memories frozen in time.
But she has no career,
No business of her own.
She networks with married men,
Men who drive shiny new cars,
Men with families that seem happy.
What she doesn’t realize is—
She’s the new car now,
A novelty today,
But like her grandfather’s old Volkswagen,
She’ll soon be parked, unused,
Worn by the passage of time.
She thinks these men despise their wives,
But the truth will come with newer models,
When her allure fades into memory.
That’s when—
Her mother’s words will echo in her mind,
Her grandmother’s advice will ring true,
The wisdom of sound friends will dawn,
And Christina Shusho’s "Nipe Macho" will be more than just a song.
But by then,
Her legs will be deflated,
Her skin, rusted,
No longer captivating,
Her comfort gone.
And worst of all—
There will be no spare parts,
No way to revive the life she once had.
