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Poem

She who walks in devastation of her own
confrontation, in relations to the upsets of
immoral motivation.
Clueless is she to the law of lifes nominations, 
Complications in her search for the right
denominations.
Others denounce her will
Always trying to steal a deal, 
Yet actions of her kind will oneday get her
killed.
Greed is the scene of ones own being, 
Pressing the issue's of wanting and needing a certain
kind of bling.
Clink-Clink, 
Sounds of a big steel door, 
With shakles dragging to the floor, 
So sore from leaving the bricks for the upcoming
war.
The war is near no end.
She reflex back knowing she has no other friend
yet, not trying to bend, 
Fighting a battle she can not win.
She's holding a lost key, 
Trying to unlock the door of reflextion she knows as
She.... 

Tiffany Saxon

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