Dreadful, horrendous, unwanted late night thoughts,
certainly warrant an enormous deep black pit of sadness.
And when the night finally falls, she constantly shuns
and tries so hard to weasel her way out of it.
But there is no escaping the inevitable.
Only if someone can get a momentarily glimpse
of the tangibly thick forlorn coat
she obliviously wears every single day.
Then maybe, just maybe, someone can fully understand
the scars embedded through her inanimate frame.