Passion Fruit

Because she has been crying tears over Mary j rolling Mary Jane

Cups full of dirty sprite but for the moment we call it sham-pain.

Roaches running rampant like they are feeding on the dirty shame.

Needles all around her, so she always has embedded pain.

Tear cut wrinkles, so you never see past her pain.

The cuts in her wrist run deep from the time she thought she'll never be whole again.

Baptized in the gutter, with the tears of angels pouring down like rain.

The street corner is her stage, that's how she rose to fame.

Heels dangling off the bed frame.

Chains choke, cuffs cuff, whips and canes.

Forsaken by her loved ones so there is no place to call home by name.

She calls herself Passion fruit (you might not know her) but you'll never forget the name.