She was called weird
As it was difficult to figure her;
She was unfathomable and complicated
One day, gentle and sober
And the next day, dangerously wild.
"Weird and crazy",
They called her aloud
She lazily glanced at them
Without a frown or a word
Her mind was at some other place.
Sometimes, a social butterfly
At other times, a lost loner
Her friends could never guess her mood,
But she was always comfortable
In her unpredictability.
A perfect paradox
Fiercely possessive on some days
Nonchalant and detached on other days
A heart of gold, but she was called weird
As she was impossible to understand.
Linking this poem with Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Weird