Silly Little Mother

My how does the widow break?

When it’s far more than her soul to take

What is seen as human nature?

Spends its time in nomenclature

Poor child of Gold today

Weary of what her past would say

Dare does it to touch her back

For the recovery can cause a heart attack

Motherless child, Fatherless daughter

Owned more the attention of why bother

Glittery but slippery does be her front

Paid off till 18, still always on the hunt

Mausoleum Mirrors covered in rosy glass

As if sipping tea, yet siphoning gas