"Now ain't that the sweetest child?"
The fair maiden says on a screen.
She's afraid to lose a friend.
Whose dear to her, she said.
"I love my baby me,
thanks for rebelling."
Her friend chuckles in glee,
As it misspells a certain pebble.
"Someone will choose you,
Every single day through good
and through bad days."
The friend, on his knees, agrees.
"How weird is weird,
You weirdo?"
To her, she's a simpleton
To him, she's a button.
Like in a warm, dusty knitted dress,
With a pretty little headdress,
But hates being a goddess,
Whose love seemed endless.
"When your way's lost, the path is dry,
For my way is clear, my way is mine.
Follow the moonlight that shines.
Thus, in your darkest hours,
All will be just fine."
Jan 19
Jan 19, 2026 at 9:20 PM UTC
"Now ain't that the sweetest child?"
The fair maiden says on a screen.
She's afraid to lose a friend.
Whose dear to her, she said.
"I love my baby me,
thanks for rebelling."
Her friend chuckles in glee,
As it misspells a certain pebble.
"Someone will choose you,
Every single day through good
and through bad days."
The friend, on his knees, agrees.
"How weird is weird,
You weirdo?"
To her, she's a simpleton
To him, she's a button.
Like in a warm, dusty knitted dress,
With a pretty little headdress,
But hates being a goddess,
Whose love seemed endless.
"When your way's lost, the path is dry,
For my way is clear, my way is mine.
Follow the moonlight that shines.
Thus, in your darkest hours,
All will be just fine."
01-20-2026
