she wrote a poem about herself

She walked on by
And didn’t bat a lash

She swore she wouldn’t look at herself today
Or ever lash a bat

She spent her days thinking about how to present herself to you
when in reality, honesty will be your production

She was confused

Because, everything had been given to her

But, now, inside, she was lost

She found her journal
she was literally walking around talking about words
and now the words done the talking.. they weren’t too kind

So now, after a terrible fight with her pet cat, she decided she would never again pet her cat
Unless it was better,

But it couldn’t ever be, because it had grown into the person it was .. so they parted ways

Everybody lost interest in her,
because she couldn’t be wrong,
but she was, sometimes, she must know!
I hear she spends her days up at Cloakstown cemetery, yeah the spooky spot below the stairs..
She just sits and writes poems about herself