By: Josephine Rudolf

When the little girl who barely had enough to survive
Turns into a grown woman with plenty of resource
But still, she cannot thrive
Another trauma is here to unpack of course

There was never much, yet enough to crowd the whole space
This is the part where the devil pulls out his ace
Plenty of things there, yet nothing of meaning
Now in either way of happiness, something is intervening

Can´t live without the well-earned ability to buy
But each bit of cluttered space makes her cry
The same gifts that pave the way to her heart are breaking it
It is tragic, ironic but also quite poetic, isn’t It?