A phone book

Beatrice

She's the dumbest enigma of them all,
Gifted with the genius of a concrete wall.
Her reasoning's impossible to undestand,
Some said her mind's lost in a fantasy land,
Yet atop the mysterious mindset
Lays, like dust, the fact that she's ambition's pet.

She gained a world with her smile,
Yet it took only a short while
To throw it back for a trinket that shone.
Always too busy, always alone,
She grew to be the family's black sheep,
The one no one desires to keep.

Yet how could such a soul be cayt aside?
Somehow, she lets all her fails slide,
In her mind, others are always to blame,
Therefore, one remains consumed by shame
Without a reason - it's mostly the shock
That she remains that way, constant as a rock.