The promiscuous girls only on her feet
In the steps her mom was in.
The little girl stands out of place
Her head in the clouds, but not in the books.
She sneaks, creeps outs the house in the silence nights
Immature little girl dreads in misery
While mama there walks the streets keeping the family alive
Pain, agony, incompletion is what she feels
Patrimony
Patrimony is the substance abuse
Money is the substance abuse
She feels the fire, the anger, and the subject in alliance
Numb and jealous
Lost in thought of the hells
Bow down to the worlds
Close the eyes and just imagine
Imagine the new planet of the what so-called happiness.