She sits in the corner,
subdued and dismayed
irate at the tear in the
dress that she made
as she waits for her suitor
(she's waited for years)
she sings songs to herself
while she holds back her tears
and another year passes,
she's gone a bit mad
though she
talks to the walls, she'll now never be sad
and she'll never be lonely,
not ever again
with sanity absent her life can begin
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