Good Girl (a poem)

Good Girl

A name nice and sweet

To be called that, oh I'd be swept off my feet.

On my knees I wouldnt pray

And my mouth would have no words to say

I stay within the circle, my permenent home

If I could stop I'd be filled with joy

My fingers are no longer my favourate toy!

But I cant stop, I never will

Somebody pass me the pills.