Who's to say she's happy?
Who's to say she's sad?
She's so lost in a transition
that reeks of familiarity.
She doesn't do well,
but she fakes it so swell.
She's ready to be done.
For everything that's in the air
to be stuck in concrete.
She's wants clarity
and certainty.
But no one will indulge her in such luxury.
No comments:
Post a Comment