Thursday, May 23, 2013

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.