Has been beamed up
Goes on missions every night
Has food stored away till 2020
Thinks the world will end tomorrow
My brother calls her doom & gloom
Reminds me of my favorite Martian
Had a zit burned into to her cheek
Don't ask me how I wouldn't know
Talks about Aliens, swears by Edgar Cayce
Reads labels back to the front
I call her the GMO police
She'll through away anything even ketchup
She calls it contraband
That's my sister she's a bit nutty
I love her anyways
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem