Beauty and Manner

Walking through the jail doors with my long legs not talking a glance back, curving in and out of the cells with my curvy body saying goodbye and good resist. Standing upon the people as they look at me walk down the stairs. Putting my hair down throwing off the sunshine with my think and luscious shiny hair. Dark and abundant hair, my eyes dark with the brows to match, my complexion so creamy and flawless.
The women of the village talk amongst their breath as I walk past them. They do not think I hear them put I hear every word that is said about I. The questions they say about I are "she think she is so beautiful, but she not!" or "how my beauty stones out!" I have learned to have dignity, grace, and to be delicate.
The women of the village talk because they envy me in such a hateful way. Even if they shall try to be like I they could not. Walking though the village having peopled turn their heads just to try and capture my beauty and the way I carry myself as a women. One of the women say “I am a beauty angel that has fallen from the sky and that I am wearing my halo with pride and no shame.” Putting a smile on my heart and face shaking her hand saying thank you and you may be blessed. The men of the village say “we have never seen such a beauty women like you.” I just smile and walk way.