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Does she

Or does  she not?

She knows neither.

She knows not if she's annoyed.

Or deviously overjoyed.

She knows not of today

Or how someone means

Nor her own two shoes

Not even her own familiar eyes 

that stare back in the mirror when shes sighs

Morally conscious,

But lost at a constant,

Particularly observant

But a parade of nonsense

She knows not her own self.

Or her own life

Or the face she paints again

She can't tie her shoes

Or tell the time
Nor talk it out
or count a dime 

She's not like the others

Or maybe just so much alike

But as a human,

You need to find a reason to dispatch and dislike

She knows not why

But perhaps to sometimes lie

Then run after herself

for the moral side

to rip on her evil pride

and bring forth the little girl she was before the hurricane.

A nobody at best.