Adelaide,
Adelaide,
Oh, she never listens,
To her momma's,
Constant refrains.
Going out in the rain,
Without her Jacket and hat.
"A heathen,
A brat".
Adelaide,
Adelaide,
Is merely a,
Curious kid.
Talking to herself,
In cream shadows,
Dusty Sunlight,
With scrapes on her knees.
"You are pale?"
"Perhaps?"
"Are you sick?"
"No, not anymore".
"You still look sick".
"Often times,
People still look sick,
Even if they're fine".
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
"That's weird".
"Is your mommy sick?"
"No, she's fine".
"Well, sometimes,
People look fine,
even if they are sick"
YOU ARE READING
Lillies and Ghosts
ŞiirPoems for the young, the restless, or the mad. These are my words to you, always and forever~
