How could she have let her guard down?
The words of comfort blurred before her
Sorry, she hadn't been golden brown.
A foiled plan like an occupied cubicle
Fluid marbles roll down her arms
Not in sight, inside her hide
Logic disarray inside like bread crumbs.
Oh! That sound! A familiarity.
It's time, it's time for con-solidarity
She picks up courage for another take
A mending to the broken, she cannot forsake.
But why? She sold her heart
Yet again so vulnerable so honest plated
A reply unhearted, undesirable
A brazen silence, she'd often digested.
An appetite for the weak
Yet the weak complains.
What more to come
The gain from more pains?
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