Braids and Boredom

Braids & boredom Loons last forum She speaks in a riot of trash Though elegantly styled She flaunts a toothless smile But most have proclaimed her half daft. She thinks of senior bicker Perhaps has made her sicker Born an old lady she's told Though not nearly a teen Still rotten & mean Her demeanor was calloused & cold. Midnight calls on echoed walls With barred down windows & steely drape With her slip on socks & their padded locks She wanders the halls to escape. She swallows their pills & their crap And cuddles a pillow to nap And in a ragged breath she laughs... No family, no visits, no wonder She's written off over a blunder Still most have proclaimed her half daft.