Crasharella
barters grace for skins and shapes and things..
and finds within the thin blue line of teleporting, wings...
now flying low with missing inventory rezzing slow,
miss Crasharella sheds the bling and racing through the cloudy sky
miss Crasharella sings...
of coloured sky-high palaces and shiny broken rings,
the scripts are missing, miss Crash wishing
for ordinary down-to-earthly simple house low-prim..
so searching through her inventory "where oh where's it gone..?"
miss Crasharella finally discovers deep below,
in the depths of her objects folder,
a coalesced object holder,
containing all her golden prefab jewel encrusted loot,
the simple humble home so needed to escape the to and fro-ing
through the thin blue line of travel,
ready to be built...
did Crasharella travel overland or boat or foot,
to find the resting place in which to nestle in and live as happy
second lifer
quite contented
virtual recluse..?
no, Crasharella went about and to and fro came to the thin blue line
and system failures notwithstanding,
settled in the realm of gypsy wanderers who glide
from one retreat to another complete
with house upon her shoulders
miss Crasharella

no more would look inside her folders
for an item which might bring her joy
because this disappearing toy
is like the life she left behind,
the real life with uncertainty and loss and love and trial,
so Crasharella, hobo-girl pulled up a log
around a fire
in some enchanted traveller's land
and once again instead of looking for the missing item,
young Crasharella took a cup of tea from her neighbouring new friend
struck up a conversation
about the calamitous state of the secondlife nation
and reached the conclusion that here or wherever
it's home just as long as a stranger will offer a hand
to assist
and insist that the time shared is,
despite the occasional mishap of technical collapse and thin blue line stasis,
all worth it to stay in this wandering world where the lag is not ideal
but we don't care,
stay with me,
drink and
smile,
stay a while Crasharella
and go as you will,
for the thin blue line calls us from safety of home
that forevermore with Crasharella we roam...