Observing a Sad Girl

She's not really a strong woman,
I mean,
she's not really what I want in a woman.

She's tall and lanky,
licks her lips but they're flaky,
smacks her feet in the halls and
eats her lunch between stalls.

She's the type to change your life,
but I think she's running out,
I watched her dance with a knife,
it's alright.

I bet she falls asleep like a kiss,
fallen upon broken lips,
in a broken home,
with broken bones,
and no where else to go.

I bet she loves with no feelings,
admires with bored eyes,
no cries, no ties, just lullabies
to soothe a soul.
Her minds in her pocket,
threw away the key once she locked it.

She's not really a strong woman,
I mean,
she wasn't really a strong woman.