There was no place within the limits of safety.
Where she could belong.
With blue hair, confidence, and a punk attitude everyone thought she was crazy.
But no one did her wrong.
Music set her free, opened her mind to what could be,
the notes drowned out what held her here.
Even though her escape was oh so near.
Poetry mangled up her mind, twisting it in ways of different kinds.
Her poems were of what could be, and the sweet taste of freedom if she leaved.
She knew all the risks and the absence of logic,
Yet she also pondered on the opportunities at hand.
Jumping off the cliff does seem a bit drastic,
But how else would she learn to fly if she always followed the rules on how to land? '