I don't know how you would even start to define yourself So I shall tell you what I am Mother Feminist Cynical Poet Writer Libertarian Human rights activist Music lover Prolific reader Opinionated Smug Erratic Those are my labels, most of them stick
Let the words rejoice I’m not a saint, there is no religion in these parts My head is filled with a crescendo of dust, brittle and broken flecks of ash The same old useless facts One part me, one part all of the everyone else That wait around to catch up with the heart Of my pace Drinking from the bottom up Our time has gone The same old scenarios, gathering moss Embattled
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