The picture is one I took on a trip across the Hudson. There was a girl posing. She had auburn highlights in her hair. The way the sun fell and the wind blew made them perfect arches flying in the air.

 

 

It's not a wicked world.

Just a world where,

to be beautiful,

they said "Her hair must be curled."

 

"Don't forget to add the auburn highlights!"

came the unanimous public voice.

Honestly they don't match her eyes.

They just add to the disguise.

 

Honey,

for better or for worse,

listen to us,

as we tell you how to live your life.

She never listened though.

 

She'd rather sit in cars pushed under trees,

covered by the branches,

akin to paranoia,

hidden under green green leaves.

 

She'd rather fill her lungs

with the smoke of a well rolled spliff

than waste air,

to participate in pointless riff.

 

She'd rather taste the skin

of a man she silently loves

than drop her pants

for strangers she could never be proud of.

 

She'd rather be the one

to stop before the finish line,

just to let the next girl win.

Someone's gotta loose right?

 

She'd take that crash,

she'd take that burn.

With her, it will always be your turn.