I was on the way to see my girlfriend.
when I saw you standing next to a broke down bronco.
I new you were my dead end.
You wore patched up overall shorts with loud mismatched knee socks.
I didn't even make a phone call to tell my girl I turned the wrong block
Your frizzy hair was Kool-Aid dyed with every flavor ever made.
I meant to stop to help you, I'm just surprised I stayed
your eyes were lined with match stick ash.
Why am I attracted when everything you are's a clash?
I saw your arms painted with bruises from when he through you out with the trash.
You're not trash.
Believe me
You're not trash.
You're a Raggedy Anne who just needs some stitching up.
With a heart broke down like your bronco, just needs some fixing up.
I don't know
I mean
I don't have a magic syrup
or anything..
I'm just hoping this time that Love is enough
so, what do you think?

© copyrighted Nicole Ann Osborn

There was a little, stuffed, ratted lamb
I used to carry around.
they found it in my closet hidden away.
What they don't know
Is that's where I used to stay.
Hidden and safe
From the war outside,
Forbidden to come out; I promised I wouldn't, But I lied.
Certain things you can't unsee
But I didn't take the ratted lamb with me.
I left it hidden away like I should have been.
Instead, I instilled a fear of men in my head.
that was the first night I didn't bring my little lamb to bed.
The old ratted thing was all I could protect.
Sure her little life wasn't perfect, always hidden out of sight.
clothes pins on her ears so she didn't hear the fights.
But I did my best to give her all I could.
Taking care of her the way I knew I should have been given care.
I became a Mom to the ratted lamb, because my Mom wasn't there.
She never once closed my ears with clothes pins.
I'd forgive her if she did.
But what's unforgivable, is that she didn't like how I hid.
I guess she wanted me to live in reality and not to be sheltered.
But I sweltered in the heat of truth.
so my little lamb I sheltered, my little lamb I soothed.
I still have the ratted thing, we sit side by side.
But now neither one of us has to hide.
Except for from time to time
When I hide from the memories
That brew
Inside.

© copyrighted Nicole Ann Osborn