She lost it

The one thing that made her happy

And she lost it.

She cries
Every
Night

For it

And starts funds

And cries for help

And writes poetry

And you have the audacity

To be bored

With her pain?

How dare you?

"Is she done yet"

"That is so last month"

"Like I would give money to a legal reject"

Help her.

Don't hate her.

Prey, help her poor soul
Can't you tell she's drowning?