Falling in love is the stuff of dreams, thought she.

A kiss away, can happily ever after be.

I'll find someone to love, and he will love me.

And we'll exchange thoughts under the weeping willow tree.



But falling in love was not as she had perceived.

A nightmare replaced her broken bright dream.

A woven heart tattered, torn loose at the seams.

And now she weeps with the weeping willow tree.



Paranoia takes root, *Does he even look at me?

Every night, she sinks to her knees.

You may hear her murmur a repetitive Please...

Because hope still lives on in the child that she's.



But as time goes on, she still begs to be free.

Begs for him to look up, to understand and to see.

She begins to wonder, Is something wrong with me?

If he is the victim, am I the disease?



A child nevermore, she no longer believes.

She now understands, I'll never be free.

Trapped in a place she never dreamt she would be.

*Falling in love became the death of me.