I live in a hole,
but,
I'm not a hobbit,
I am whole,
complete construction of DNA,
a being,
a mixture of parts,
a mixed mash,
of colourful art,

I have charms,
they're buried far in the reaches of my eyes,
and,
at the end of my arms,
in the land where no-one lives but me,
I work in care,
as care I do,
I earn,
but I still  just exist,
in my hole,
maybe my whole,
not even a half,
or a quarter,
not the devil's daughter,
ever,
not never,
never in a million years
this non hobbit woman,
is not an American,
in my case,
it's England,
that is the land of the free,
free speech,
that's a laugh,
free standing,
a  lamp or a politician,
full of ignoramus blues,
all left over remnants,
from yesterday's news.
(C) Livvi