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Poetry
Molded
Quarrel me again,
fashion me
To whatever you want me to be.
Mold me, bend me, make me change
Make me unrecognizable, deranged.
I can be molded
like polymer clay
The perfect lady, in perfect array.
Go ahead and make me into another
Flexible enogh to every other.
I won't complain,
I would never
Dream of not obeying your words, ever.
I'll just be who you want me to be
Instead of simply being me.
.~*~.
Dated May 28th, 2004.
\\Girl\\
Adrienne Wolter. May 4th, 1990. 16. Taurus. Junior. Atheist.
Author. Poet. "Organized chaos." Cellist. Soprano. Slytherin.
Web designer. Blue belt.
<3 Severus Snape. Harry
Potter. Fan fiction. Writing. Monk. The Office. The War at Home.
Cats. Yorkshire pudding. Everclear. Maroon. Clothing. Karate.
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