She liked unlikely things:

skulls and worms and 

birds with one wing,

hiking through swampy bogs,

collecting bugs,

flea-bitten dogs.

The whispers surrounded - 

"Why's she so weird?" -

insults abound.

But she didn't hear them

No, she didn't care

if they condemned

She thought her own thoughts

Her own ideas

never distraught

by not fitting the norm

She knew her thoughts

would take them by storm