Pretty little sonnet.

The girl who waited, left behind

The girl that's tired, giving up

The girl who's falling, lost her mind

The solace seeker in a cup

What to do when this is wrong

We don't know how to feel

We write, we talk, we make a song

We try so hard to make us real

We can fly away with words

Or music in our hands

We can soar high with the birds

Look down on wasted lands

We will make do and mend

Our rules of life we will not bend


The End

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