Glum, her dole

 A clever retort, she thought,

Would finish it all for good,

With tension, she was wrought,

Continuing to incessantly brood.

 

Relationships, she wanted all,

Silky smooth, was her call,

But, in a beat, they began to fall.

Filling her with dismal appall.

 

Lonely, in a crowd, she felt

Yearning for the affection,

But life continued with welts,

And, all she felt was dejection.