Flower petals do not die
Fold them neatly
And place them on my upper thigh
Think about how they do treat me
Like I’m the thorn to a rose
Wishing to ***** their pointer finger
They don’t know me I suppose
Maybe when I grow up I’ll be a drinker
Drink myself to death and beyond
slouch upon my ***** couch
Thinking about the time when I was blond

i think we got it wrong
when we think of strong

for its not a mind
that thinks of me and mine

or controlled
by need or greed

its one thats gone inside
and dissolved all internal needs
and turns towards the world
with hearts and hands of kind