my father said 'son you've got to <br />make that run <br />if you'll ever begin to win' <br />but dad <br />I can't lose <br />if I refuse <br />to choose <br />your game that won't allow sin <br /> <br />my mother said 'Lee why can't you <br />see <br />that it's time in your life for a wife? ' <br />but ma I've spent my eyes on <br />the tattooed thighs <br />of a girl with a pearl handled knife <br /> <br />like a lynx <br />on the prowl past the fox and the owl <br />she breezes the ground <br />without sound <br />and I know <br />you won't find that she's the marrying kind <br />there's no part of her heart <br />to be found<br /><br />Lee Crowell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/young-rebel/
