She slowly walks parks at night
Just to see what strange things lurk
In the darkness.
Hand feeds animals
Nobody should even be around
Let alone feed.
Dances in the pouring rain
While everyone else
Runs for cover.
Keeps her hair pinned up
So nobody can see
Its beauty.
Strained hearts against a life
Foretold by a woman years ago
Led the mad woman down a path
Nobody could see coming.
At one point she came to a split in the road
One path was short, but had no hurdles
The other very long, but had thorns and branches covering it.
Coming out of the path
Beaten and worn
She finally wrote her memoirs
“Diary of a Mad Woman.”
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