Sophie

This is a simple thing to say.

In my mind, it is simple to understand.

But my mind, like Sophie's intelligence,

is Pulp.  Pulp.

I think that may translate from Polish

to S**t.  S**t.

 

If you can take a good hard look

at her decisions, choices and life,

made on her feet, with no proper moment

to think, analyse, consult,

to clear her head of chaos. 

But to Do.  Just Do.

 

If in so doing, you find her guilty,

then I am all the more so.

Rest assured, my angel,

sweet child of mine,

that our demise, she and I

will meet in time.