A prop made out of salt she has become,
Supporting a pillar was what she was made for,
Now she is ready to fall.
She has made the hard soft,
and the soft hard.
The risen hard can’t stand for a day,
The risen hard will eventually fall.
That was wide!
Her hole has been reframed by the wild.
Slots and entries have made it wide.
She craved for love at 13,
Back against the wall,
Her holes still was tight.
At 18 she already had a thing to do with everyone in street tuna.
Fame atimes kills faster than a mice in the hand of the wicked.
She knows every strong joint
And weak end.
Parties every weekend,
She was a turner.
The red light points her face every night,
She can’t take a step away from luxury without a burner.
Now is a whore.
She trails every man not for what to be worn.
She sucks gooey fluid with zilch gas,
She is a part of the disparaging mass.
Old puna was once the shy girl who sleeps all night beside granny’s old fax.
Her innocence is fading off with the shadows of doubt
Her purity was once a question, no one could ask.