Diana's in a lot of pain,
Stood through quite a bit of rain,
Singing songs that sound insane
Because she'll never be the same.
Diana's faith was smashed to dust,
Under it her hopes were crushed,
She closed her eyes, gave into lust,
And now she don't know who to trust.
Diana's scarecrow knight is gone,
He's not standing on the lawn,
She waited for him until dawn,
She waited for him until dawn.
And now the tin man has arrived,
For him she tells the sharpest lies,
She's turned her back into the light,
Tin Man shifted her paradigm.
YOU ARE READING
The Art of Confusion
PoesiaDiana Miller is schizophrenic...or at least she thinks so. She has never been clinically diagnosed because her father believes that mental illness is demon possession, and she knows he would never take her to a psychiatrist. To cope with her inner c...
