Your Shitz Weak. My Shitz Deep.

The sunrise is at its peak.
To sleep or not to sleep?
My childish brain cells play their hide + seek.
But gracefully and in sync like Imogen Heap.
With my ego so unique.
Leaving me the black sheep.
With my hair decorated with a blue streak.
I master this ballet leap.
Leaving behind the Gucci fragrance I reek.
In my cabinet is the Passion Flower tea I seep.
On my counter are cookies my dog will earn if he will speak.
At the other end of the house, an alarm let's out an obnoxious beep.
Mum steps into the kitchen + glances at me so bleak.
She says, "Are you high Allie Sailboat? go to fluffin sleep!"


♥♪♫♥


Copyright 2010 Allie Sailboat