Sits with a common cigarette, a yellow mug of dastardly black aside
Tries to find the words, to say what hell might quite liken itself too
This, perhaps
Daft delinquency – a magic mind minus the time to breathe any rhyme into this life
But for where the page does bleed
She’s meaning to amount, imagination and dream works her only ever tuck on in, the boredom grabs ferocious hold of itself, ain’t no rest for the wicked it seems
Palm-faced and brutal to her only mother – brave, smashed everything, crushed aforementioned dreams
When a mountain became a wished for existence
And the cigarette opts to take an uncommon break

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