***

Attributed to Taylor Momsen

There was a woman, all day on the road,
Tired and smoking throughout.
She never spoke of the lie she was told,
Or even knew what's about.

She always wore very brightest of black,
So it stood out on her skin.
She never flinched to return or look back…
Back, where she might’ve once been.

She sang a song or a two about love,
Heartless and simple at first,
Was, at the start, such a wonderful dove…
We know the way of that verse.

She sang more vivid, ideas and thoughts
Clearing and gloaming her mind.
Nobody knew of the truth, that she sought,
Only that she was too kind.

There is a woman, wise down to her core,
Shaded and smoking nonstop,
Asking us clearly, for what we sell for,
Quietly, so we won’t drop.

There is a woman, who's life on the road
Gave her particular stride.
She would go on until sun would grow cold…
Please, let her be on her ride.