I know a girl that you know.

I know a girl that you know,
Only I know her better.
She likes pastries for breakfast,
And muffins for lunch,
And her head to be tickled and touched.

It's there that she keeps,
Her beautiful mind.
Full of beautiful thoughts,
Of beautiful places,
That she captured in polaroid.

Her room is a mesh of colour,
Because her countrymen fly them with pride.
And the floor is a mess,
And the washing pile high,
But she sleeps on an island, with a bear.

She cries sometimes, you know,
She doesn't like me to see.
Those tears are like ice,
Even sharper I think,
Because her cheeks are punished pink.

And I'm trying to know her better,
Was hoping that this would help.
I feel sordid and cheap,
Like a thief or a cheat,
And limericks are never enough.