A phone book

Coco

She's like an hourglass - so stable one day,

But as soon as the sky turns grey,

All's flipped over and false becomes white

- and a whole sunset might be in sight.

And though she's admirable in many things,

That shouldn't give her freedom-granting wings

To do as she pleases regardless of the trouble

It creates for others - with her aid, it might double.

She said she's unable to grow old with grace

- yet for that reason, she insists on a race

Against the clock with every young one

- either you listen to my cries, or we're gone.

On thin ice with everyone, yet misunderstood,

Her heart's on her sleeve under a hood.

She's hard to abandon, harder to please,

For every word seems to make yet-unpaid fees.