Lonely Thoughts
A single tear slides down her cheek, noticed by him, yet still so bleak. Slender fingers wipe it away, pushing herself just one more day. Then another falls to take its place, she scolds herself; ‘tis her disgrace. It is her shame, there is no relief, each tear simply prolongs her grief. If you were to ask, why does she weep, would she just wipe, to clean her soft cheek? Yet, in the corner she will sit, sigh and think, st...