Craving coruption
Not exactly sheltered
More like wilted
From too much sun
But still, she wants to know more
So she writes stories
About people so poor
A self-abused runner
An Italian painter
A lonely bartender
She'll have them all patened
And shipped to her door
And read them on the floor
While eating a red popcycle
The painter is so comical
The runner is such a disaster
(She secretly loves the bartender...)
And they all live together
Less than happily ever after
Because she imagines what she wants
Whatever she can't be
Goes in her story
Excellent! A wonderful poem!