Introspections
March 10, 2013
A snake it slithers in grasses, that stop only for the sky
It’s shiny coat of armor, encases it’s tender, warm insides
For I’m like this snake, my introspections wrapped in scales
I’m as ferocious as a lion, and as sweet as puppy tales
It’s for you to decide, which side, that you would like to meet
I know it’s hard to fathom, it’s somewhat hard to believe
That foul words, that flow like a river, from my little mouth
Come from a girl, who inhabits this world, that rarely puts out
But it’s true I’m not a harlot, with red letters across my chest
Not exactly Mother Mary, which Saints are meant to bless
Don’t take every word, that your eyes blink upon
To be my exact actions, not all truth, but not a con
For little, young Hazel, is not a whore or a nun
But just an enchanted, lovely lady, who likes to have her fun