And then she decided to delve

A person who opt clay,
To make their home.
A bird which choose straw,
To make her nest.
But a mouse picks ditch,
To spend own life.

Every particle of soil thrown out,
Not as the world concernment
Of a customs.
Who hid herself,
Not been able to locate her again.

You didn’t appreciate my,
So what.
You haven’t listen to my,
So what.
Now Leave me on my own,
I’m alive is enough.

Rachitic Mintages ©