Monday, 13 January 2014

Pretty Medusa

The snakes that I let crawl up my stomach
They live on my head now.
Only thing is, often they throw these hissy fits, It's
Something I shouldn't have allowed.

The neon green baby wants to play in the rain
But Orange-with-brown-spots here
Thinks he has the pneumonia. Blue ribbon fancied
Blue-eyed boy, but,(said another), he's stony 'n austere.

I just can't seem to focus, there's already an awful
Lot to do, a diligent young gal like me.
It's a shame these slimy darlings have their stupid
Little problems, they just wont let me be.

Everywhere we go,even nosy passer-by s
Make sure they don't stare. 
But they do call us an 'eye-sore' (I really am not)
And hire people to chop off my hair.

They're being rather mean, but that's okay, I've got
Too many friends anyway, they'll only ever have a few.
We grin knowingly, they just don't know it yet
They've got snakes whispering from a midst their hair too.






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