Her sorrow leaks from her pores,
cannot be contained,
years of trial experimentation
with lonely hearts and open minds
have been met with failure.
Her desperation sits on a pauper's throne,
no-one to reach for,
fingertips falling ever so gently,
and she realizes, she is truly alone.
Is it fair? As fair as life is
to a million others that are
exactly like her (and a million others that are not).
She is left to fend for herself
with only her frail mind,
and the angels' blankets that hold her
still leave her shivering in the sun.
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