Seeing the bigger picture, a wider view… No longer black and white,
Such a mental flip, when I think of you… So I grab my pen to write,
There is this image, that you project… Lures me every time,
The walls are strong, that you protect… Impervious to rhyme,
This poet cannot change the world… Nor the rainbow’s pot of gold,
Just an ink stained, hippy weirdo girl… Outside the fire, in the cold.