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*What Else Can You Do?*
alone stood a girl
with her back to the wind
unaware of the sorrow
fusing within
and her once vibrant eyes
were cold and worn out
the rigorous nights
of worries and doubts
the mind it was willing
but the soul bare and raw
revealed simple truth
and under it all
the person she thought
that would always be there
fell to a new low
like the locks of her hair
though forgivness is grand
and quite a habit of hers
after so many sorrys
its a meaningless word
to say these things being truthful
she feels wrong and corrupt
but its true what they say
you can only take so much
