Am I open, like a book?
with a hard shell for a cover,
scarred and cracked from recent lovers,
do I truly hold use for you?
I was blessed with keen eyesight
but grow dim in the bright light.
Open mind for all occassions
but closed heart for new relations,
and my genes speak for me.
There was a woman, a tattered woman
she was reserved and quite unspoken
held to his side like a gleaming token;
I am all that came after,
baby's breath and squealing laughter.
Please hold my hands with ease
but grip enough to say you're pleased,
even a psychic needs reassuring at times.
My heart is the speaker
throughout ghastly rhymes.
