Just another two penny person,
Smile on her face,
Brain on the wane.
It’s easy to watch flowers wilt
No-one cares, they become silt.
That’s all that’s meant to be
Of genius and creativity.
Bottled wrong, presented worse
A mire of deep recesses lurk.
Here I sit, at a desk pondering
What will happen to our lady dangling
By the edge of her patience,
[and it’s a long thread]
At the corner of her seat
No longer afraid of the darkness.
If she leaps, and I dare say she will,
What black hole she’s falling through
Any dark sea of cushions to huff onto?