There she is
Eyes moist and fierce
Like rolling thunder
or a mad wilderbeest
There she is
Her thoughts sinking and bare
Stand aback, they shriek
and freak in great despair
She’s tiny and strange
A little deranged
Her mind is a-whirl
In super craze and frantic swirl
She scrapes the ground for something to be found
And sniffs the air
but finds nothing there
She’s in a box all shut and sealed
She kicks and sheds tears on
flesh un-healed
They stare and tap her solitary trap
Make no attempts to loosen the strap
The little deranged girl with the mind in a-whirl
Shuts her dark eyes and finally
sleeps in a tight curl.

Yes, there she will stay
all night and all day.
She’s a dark morbid child they say.
It’s just better this way.

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