She wanders by the twilit lake,
for thoughts of him kept her awake,
so now she feels her heart may break,
and walks on, cold and bitter.
He treated her with scant respect,
while his behaviour went unchecked
and after years of self-neglect
she doesn't know what hit her.
The whispered words behind the bend
allow her heart no chance to mend,
thus forcing her instead to tend
to purely stressful matters,
and all the while the breezes blow,
the things she didn't want to know
occur to her in steady flow
and leave her heart in tatters.
For what good comes neglecting chat
which lays her bare, or lies her flat,
if without help, her brain does that,
and worse, it complicates it?
But she never does speak thus,
it's to be felt, not to discuss,
and, wanting not to cause a fuss,
she never even states it.
