
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