<--1:09 P.M. September 10, 2003-->
BOHEMIAN PRINCESS...
Rhythmically tapping her nails on the counter.
Is it boredom or lack of motivation I don't know.
Her lonely plant sitting on window sill.
No matter how much sunshine and water it refuses to grow.
Faint voices echoing off the walls.
She's a brave little trooper but still she falls.
She cosmetically conceals her identity.
She lives a chaotic lifestyle but craves serenity.
She hides behind the veneer of the city streets.
She frequents coffee houses and reads me poetry by John Keats.
She is the Bohemian Princess of the Lower East Side.
She know's the rules its Gas,Grass or Ass if she want's a ride.
One by one her friends have moved away.
But this is where her Heart is so she's decided to stay.