take me
now
before i wake
take my choice
before it's too late
i cannot learn
what you do not teach
i cannot fight
if i believe i am already defeated
take me
now
before i wake
i will believe i escaped
if you do not tell me i was taken

Sixty-three...
Sixty three days
you went missing.

Nine...
Nine weeks
a candle burned in your window.

The same window
you were taken from.

Petaluma, outraged and determined,
became a colony of ants.

Ground searches to mass mailings,
they never gave up hope
and soldiered on.

In a high-tech dragnet
you became the first internet child.

Your anxious mother
fretted over every detail
concerning you:

"I have a daughter out there--without shoes."

You would always be your parents
beloved little girl.

You were laid to rest
the day after the butterflies flew away,
migrating to a warmer climate
where they could play in safety

--the life we wish for all children.

Twenty-five...
Twenty-five years ago
you went away.

A remembrance
that is felt everyday.

Never drop kick an alien,
Or they will shoot fudge in your ears,
And nut in your eye.
Then stick a needle in it,
Then stick a probe up your ****** pipes.

Nobody wants those things done to them, so I advise that you don’t ******* the alien that took you from your planet.

Oh **** the E Mother ******* T is at it again,
Stealing cows and ****.
Running the farmers out of business.
What do they need the cows for anyway.
Is their planet running out of milk or something?
Are their women not producing enough ***** milk for baby alien lips or something?
Makes me so mad that I want to drop kick an alien....
But I need to keep it together,
Because I know what they will do to me if I do.