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.
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