She use to have a block party
DJing her heartbeat. Until the
Grim Reaper crashed it with his
posse of ogres and kidnapped her
3-year-old daughters soul right out
of her smile. Now she walks the plank
of life blindfolded with cannonballs tied
to her feet and a cutlass blade poking
at her back. Afraid that if she blinks too
hard it might set off the bombs in her
stomach and let all hell break loose.
You never put anything past a grief-stricken
mother whose future looks like it
french kissed an apoca-(lypse).
Because everyday, is another day,
she wakes up, stares life in the eyes,
and remembers.
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