There is always someone looking over my shoulder,
Perhaps expecting me to do something far more magnificent
Than Siegfried and Roy's tiger attack.
I can offer them nothing but timid thoughts
That came with force from a confused woman's mind.
I don't know where I'm going or where I'll end up,
I fear the day I fall in a gutter and die,
Laying there hugging my poetry,
My life-long work, in my arms and in one hand,
I shall be clutching my favorite pen
Because what is a writer without her favorite pen?
The only bit of identification
That people will have to work with,
Are the three tattoos on my neck and arms,
Someone is bound to find me, identify me, send me on my way.
I fear the day this happens but
Perhaps it's not too far off.
I am confused, a lonely heart who has no one to love.
I am lost in a world I created
To take away my cruel pain.
Where am I going and who will find me there
Are constant questions in my mind.
Bear in mind that I was never really happy
Until they all just left me alone.