No sense of courage or brawn,
This mask I've had to put on,
Not sure how much longer I can lie,
not sure how long I can be strong...
A recycled tin can,
a heartless rusted silver man,
An emptiness inside, wind whistles through,
A curse holds my body still,
depressions I can't hide...
No mark of smarts or a brain inside,
Poor specimen of straw-mankind,
Filled with natural distractions and woes,
an uneasy life for me,
what kind of scarecrow am I?..
A naive innocent girl is me,
Home is where I can lick my lips,
or is it where my inner self can be,
(or maybe where the tornado tosses me?)
A red stain on my lips, bottom lip pulled by teeth
for all to see.
