By Willow Taylor



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Golden hair streaked by the sun
Rosy pink skin, and robust build
There isn't enough face paint in the world
There isn't enough dye to make me into one of you
Laughing heart and smiling lips
Misery messy, and painful to see
Some things cannot be changed
Some things cannot be hid.
Black garments covered with white cat hair
Humor outrageous and willing to share
So maybe I try
So maybe I fail
Am I Goth enough for you?
My pasty-white friend?
With raven-black hair
Whose world is at an end
With humorless death, and personal pain
Old movie disease coming back again
Look inside yourself
And maybe you'll find -
that being a Goth is more than a state of mind


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Goth © 2001 by Willow Taylor

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