She was in love with love.
To her, it was everything.
Nothing dared to venture off above.
At best she was a fragile puppet on a string.
A beautiful rose may leave you torn.
It was too late.
She had already been pricked upon many-a-thorn.
And then the salty tears from her eyes had begun to sting.
Regretful orbs couldn't help, but glance upon the red glove.
Love wasn't at all what it was supposed to be.
This so-called love is a boy.
Why can't she see?
To him, she is only a toy.
Her mind is lost out at sea.
His cuddles and kisses were a decoy.
She's free, but not really.
He was everything, and that is what she gave.
Now she is nothing; for it was given all away.
Love was her life...now love is nowhere in sight.
What more is there to say?
She put up a fight; brave.
This girl was someone that not even love could save.