They call her "Merry Em",
Though why is hard to see.
She's frequently found at the end of the street,
Leaning on the lamppost...her only support.
She has a career in sales,
Though no spiel she'll need.
Her low-cut blouse and above-the-thigh skirt
Speak volumes.
"Merry Em"...often on her knees,
But seldom in prayer;
For once back home, she has two little mouths
And one big habit to feed.
But for now, she leans on the lamppost...
Her only support.
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"Me, my thoughts are flower strewn, ocean storm, bayberry moon; I have got to leave to find my way..." REM
