*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

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