I’m paper, I’m wood,

Others say I’m not good.

I bleed & I boil

In Millenium toil.

Sambuca’s my nitro,

I don’t have a right to,

Fame, Fortune, Gain or Reward.

My mind’s going crazy,

My future is hazy,

My Love’s pierced my heart with his sword.

50 years of days being a good little girl,

Have led me to places where others are cruel,

Welfare to West Van, I saw the way,

To escape all oppression, and brighten each day,

It worked for awhile,

then life wore me down,

and the man that I love

changed his smile

to a frown.

I’ve let my hair down,

I want to be me,

excited and wanton

and explicitly free,

Mysterious nights, Sirocco days,

Love in my heart,

my thighs, and my ways.

I’m going to control me,

I’m going to be thin,

let others in

To my world carved from life.

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets