Gone Girl

She is deliciously tall
Sort of a long girl
She is delightfully small
Sort of a song girl
She freely admits to the world
That she was a wrong girl
That’s nothing compared to the fact
That she is a gone girl
Gone like a knock on the door
Gone with yesterday and before
Gone with the wind forevermore
She never lay claim to the fact
That she was a strong girl
So why should I loudly proclaim
That she was a wrong girl?
I’d rather think of her name
As some sort of song girl
And think poetical things
To think of my gone girl
Gone like a knock on the door
Gone with yesterday and bfore
Gone with the wind forvermore
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