She is a captive of her own thoughts

Cracks into peevishness daily in her jail cell

And as the aged touch the bellies of their graves

She delves into long yearned for should have beens

And secretly hopes the crack of the next day is pregnant

Pregnant with cupid moments that she is a virgin to

But her sand castles are toppled every morning

Different day, same bustle and thwarted her

Will her tears ever know not to flow down her cheeks?

Will her mind ever stop to wander behind every want?

Will her heart ever cease leaping at false apprehensions?

She is so lost in stance but does not want to be found

So deep in hypnotic delusions and refuses to be snapped back

Constantly perturbed by the strength of her gusto to thrive

To thrive against the obvious logic spelt clearly in her books

But she reminds herself she is no stickler

And vigilantly avoids retracing the paths of slipped up buffs

That however doesn't stop her rose from wilting

So she drops her head and hides her sad face

As she dies a silent death...again and again