There isn’t a doctor anywhere around
You’ll have to be my muse.
The stench you’ve left in haste
Was very close to abuse.
She’s a dangerous concoction of a lady
Waiting out the storm.
What you, yourself, would run from
Seems to be her norm.
There were senseless acts of cruelty
Aimed directly at the wrong men.
She’d lost her use of discord
But got the right one every now and then.
Humans are not very tangible
They don’t give what they get.
Stupidity, like standing out in the rain
Then wondering why they get wet.
She’s lost a lot of faith in humanity
But would love to get all that back.
She’s a little left of center
And certainly not on the right track.
While you wonder about her motivation
She certainly wonders about yours.
Are you truly out to get what you deserve
And is that really found in whores?