Clean-living girl

In a messy world

Who would have thought

She doesn’t get to decide her future

Her life consists of fragments                          other people have put in place

Do you get the picture?

She can only frame?

Society has placed

A weight on her shoulders

Its hands around her neck

A blank cheque

For her debts

The road won’t let her cross

So she misses her bus

The traffic is constant

Constantly stopped

You got a sports car

It’s a nice colour

But you drive it too fast

How can a thing of beauty                                        Ever hope to last?

And the white sky smirks back at me

I shrug my shoulders at it, hopelessly

And effortlessly

I can feel

There is no life, no energy

In the centre of this town

The plug’s been pulled,                          Into a whirlpool we all drown

And the white sky I thought was January, February pure

to follow the snow from before

Was just one big cloud

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