she does not care about the normal things. her heart is drenched in wine.
her mind is made from jungle jims.
her feet caress the grass beneath,
her hair wild with the wind.
inside her head the happy thoughts swing on the monkey bars.
confusion on the merry go round
indicisiveness spins spins spins profound.
and
while she sleeps she weeps
one solitary tear
for all humanity's sins
for mother nature's pain
and for the love she feels in vain.
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