To The Real Norma Jelly

She lives in her tea

Like a wild stallion

And smoky clouds can't erase her

For she is too hard to endure;

Yes she is the woman with two faces,

The joker and the saint.

Oh how the green grass piles upon the dirt,

Her riddles are fire within the night

Elastic smiles are not always a treasure

And a shortness of breath

Is not eternal,

Oh what proper love marries a saint?

The mystery is in the story

She brings every Friday,

Her loyalty is a joke

Such wildflowers wander in the wind

As the dirt seeps between her ears

And lovely is the scarlet rose face

That bleeds with integrity

I find myself widened

To her loneliness;

For words are bigger

Than the actions allowed

She storms in rage

When someone tells the truth

And her dirty fingernails are not so tough

As jelly rots upon the stone...

Philosophically, I raise the bar

Yet Norma is a thing on earth

Her rotten teeth are soft and white

And her peanut butter skin's aglow

Oh the softness of her wickedness

Is of a pleasant rose

But her tea is too hot to compare...

Oh what wicked snare?

For she is too beautiful to dare

For a friend is a wicked friend

All the time;

For what is this philosophy

I sit upon her chair?

For she is not true to her friends at all

For there is jelly all over the place

She is a filthy dirty liar

And roses stink like her demands

And watch her fall into the devil's hands

Such clarity is stronger than my might

Ten thousand men cannot lift such betrayal

Such rotten teeth cannot speak true words

My darling affiliator,

What can you think of next?

For your waging sorrow

Is a cry for tears...

I cannot wait for the smoky clouds to clear.

Demon, demon

Do you smell a steak?

Devotion is your truest friend,

For the blood of the meat will haunt you

As the skies rip and roar;

And what is the sky

If the sky is not for you?

I plan on delivering another message

And goodbye to the skies that once adored you

For your angelic house

Is in ruins...