She knows not Of how sheer she lays in the corner of her bed ,phone one hand,void the other Of how much from her world, in her eyes,you can gather Of the pain her sore feet reveal,running from yet another Of how bluntly her heart drips ,may these phrases bolt her rather
She knows not Of light.gloomy and dusky is the shine her tears reflect Of her influence,vigor,strength,flair and respect That to another living soul, her fritter is their glitter That to be a victor you cant be a quitter nor bitter
She knows not. That her suitor holds on to her hand at the end of the story That her journey already started in the midst of her worry That her fright and dismay will soon be her glory That her misfits are the brisks to the brush of her poetry.