Aint no ditsy hippy chick,

With flowers in her hair.

She is the teeth, claws and attitude,

Of an angry mother bear.

She is the bitter winter storm,

The merciless desert heat,

The wild mother...

That sees another’s child,

As nothing more than meat!

Nature knows no right or wrong,

Her rules are quite distinct,

You find a way to get along,

Or you get to be extinct!

Mike Puhallo

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