To Be Cut

Back in the days

Hated black ink and

Goth faced baby dolls

Tatoo skulls and skin

Deep tears

Wore a pretty neat


Bright colors with but

Few stains

Now, so close to a whore

Deep black jeans and

A chest full of all black

Mini's and black lipsticks

Choosing a new culture

Treasure my leisure

I see an orchid of 

Black paintings and black boots

These are the new days

Goth punk

There ain't no saint

That can stop me

At war with the world

And everybody

Got a new cloth 

To be cut from

So close to reaching

My true form the

True form 

Nobody made me

I made myself