Here's The Issue

Poetry is amazing in all forms
And its unremarkable the expressions expelled by it
But when it comes to love I find one type
And I code this as the "coffee shop girl"
I find way too many poems almost identical
Where someone falls in love with this particular girl
Almost always blonde (or red haired)
White
A dash of freckles across the bridge of her nose
Soft skin lacking only impurities
Of the sweet type
Such as beauty marks and a red nose from the winter cold
She never has brown eyes
Always an ocean blue or emerald green
She's wearing only the neatest fashion
A scarf is a must, usually accompanied by a tote bag of some sort
She has a hot cup of coffee wrapped I one hand
And a book grasped in the other
She turns the pages with such elegance
As easy as a breath
And she gets lost in the book
While the narrator gets lost in her
And I've seen this too many times
To not wish I was her
But here's the deal
My hair is blacker than outer space
And every. Single. Hair.
On my body is amplified and visible
In the winter, my Latino skin is a soft grey
Lacking any form of peachy glow in my cheeks
My eyes are brown
That's it: brown
I don't have freckles of any sort
The impurities on my face are acne blemishes and scars
I'm Mexican and French
Not white gold
I'm a minority
I don't sit alone in shops to drink
I'm far too much of a nervous wreck
I'm coffee-intolerant too
So there goes any hope of that dream
And most of all I don't read
Unless its a series that I REALLY like
But other than that
It would be a miracle to find any type of book in my hand while I'm out in public
Every time I see one of these coffee shop girls
I'm stuck with both a
"Good for you girl" type attitude
And a deep envy
That carves away at every bit of my insecurity pocket
Deeper and deeper I slide in
I may never find a poem (non-sex based) about
The black haired Latina who's too loud and only drinks coca-cola
So for now I'm the invisible homebody girl