She's stoned off her ass,
Selling religion to everyone; her religion.
She used to believe in a lot,
Not one religion but many and then,
She was sold on one of them by the catholics,
And now I just pity her.
She dropped acid about an hour ago,
She's in for quite a trip.
She stands there, like she's standing with jesus,
And wants me to shake his hand but I repudiate.
I don't even know the man,
Did he wash his hands?
You drop acid once, you must be crazy,
A few days ago,
She ripped out a chunk of her scalp
And handed it to me as I passed her by.
I could say nothing so I took and went off,
Shaking with every step.
She believes that her religion is the best,
That's her belief.
She says her religion is a place she's been to,
So I know she's insane.
Last week she was shooting up,
This week dropping acid.
I wonder what her drug of choice will be next week.
I told her I wanted nothing to do
With her relentless preaching of god,
But she would not stop.
She asked me what I believed in
And I said, “humankind.”
She scoffed, took a step back , and had a chat with jesus.
She says life as a teen sucks,
And what would I know, I'm only twenty, what would I know about being a teen?
She's in her late thirties, I think.
Insane as all get out.
She says she has god in a box in her bag,
I believe her, he's everywhere.
She said I was forced to believe lies about god,
I tell her probably.
I don't think she fully understands me.
She takes out a mirror and talks to herself in it,
Saying that her life sucks, but all life sucks.
She says some people believe in the wallstreet journal, that's their bible.
I say I don't care and try to walk on.
She wants to corner me,
And feed me her line of belief in catholicism.
But I refuse to listen.
Seems everywhere I go, even the crazy people want me to believe in what they believe in…
January 27, 2004
*This is dedicated to crazy lady on the corner. She's always there and this poem is based on a true event that happened a few weekends ago.