by June 21, 2013 0 comments

There she is right over there
Wearing those dirty pink shoes
She always looks like she is lost
The only shoes that seem to fit
The pink shoe pill popper blues
Like a clown they make her sane
In a crazy world of glitter pain
The only one’s that she can use

I wonder what she took today
Green one’s and blue one’s too
All that hazy bubble ice cream
Her head is probably swimming
Like a year long lost day dream
Sliding around in green moss shoes
To the pink shoe pill popper blues

Sad to think that she lives in a haze
She‘s not new to this psychedelic phase
Someone needs to get her to the clinic
Gets her kids from school in a daze
Maybe plead to her partner in crime
The snob is not one for grace and giving
Never speaks about what he does
Or how he makes his expensive living

The pink shoe pill popper blues
She acts like someone else every day
When she goes silent I just walk away
There is never anything for us to share
I can never think of anything to say
She hides behind her husband well
On the days that she can’t see straight
Her strung out medical partner in crime
He makes sure that she is never late

editors note:

Suburban subhuman coping mechanisms, “Doctor, please, some more of these – Outside the door, she took four more” – mh

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