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Whee was a girl of sixteen, on the run.
Life as she knew it was truly no fun.
Dad had died when she was a toddler, not three.
Mom was usually passed out in room for one.

The checks had stopped coming some time ago.
The neighbors called her mother a crack house ‘ho.
Whee had reached out once at school – a big mistake!
When the coppers left, she got lots of woe.

Her feet were tired. Her muscles did ache.
She stayed off main highways where big trucks quake.
Lost girl in a world that did not care.
Resolved to not steal or rudely take.

Met a crazy lady with frizzy hair.
Who brought her home to a weird hoarder’s lair.
Paths through the boxes were not very wide.
Loving though; ready to happily share.

When the police came looking, she let Whee hide.
They both had the same troubles down inside.
This was the best home Whee could remember.
She had not felt such love since daddy died.

With Ma Blebomb from June to September.
Sang and laughed her way through to November.
Took care of the lady when she got sick, 
 Inherited the house in December.

Promised she would keep her eyes looking out
To help any runaway girls who needed to shout.
Kept her promise, and let two runaways in.
Keeping Ma’s legacy which is what the house was about.

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