She was intense, serious and responsible, always involved in a cause or vision that she made possible
Once it was a school annual show- ideas, and stories created from within her mind-to be passionately followed or be left behind!
From where did those thoughts come, I often wondered, nodding my head, yet bewildered
Nothing much I had to do, except watch the canvas unfold and coast through

Why am I mushroom, let in a corner and fed with shit! Said a poster that she once bought and defiantly put up in her room
I remember the surprise and amazement that I felt
She is our leader and we follow, Why would she even think this way
Maybe I never told her what I saw
Why I didn't I will never know
Those scratches and bites said them all
My inability to articulate frustrating me and violently coming out