I am the girl with the black dove on her shoulder
The creature made of selfishness and sin
More self-centered than you could hope to be.
I hold the black dove under my chin.
I protect it from the rain
FRom the scorn
From the pain.
I protect the black dove.
But the dove does not love me.
It digs its claws into my hand,
Into my shoulder
Into my neck.
Draw up drops of ruby blood
And slips its poision within.
I am the girl with the black dove,
And its slowly killing me.
Until I decide to wring its neck...
Then it becomes up to me,
To bury the black dove in the garden,
And pray it makes no poison tree.
I'll never water this fowl seed
But I pray it doesn't come back to haunt me.