Posted on: March 2, 2012 Posted by: Felicia S. C. Gooden Comments: 1

Walls of stone and a suffocating mist,
Surround the girl as she dwells in her pit.
A soul discouraged by life’s traveling amiss.
Alone in her corner, she sits and she sits.
Disillusionment consumes, and depression hits.
Pain coming full force, she’s a catcher with no mitt.
To numb the agony and avoid a snit,
Alone with her vodka, she sits and she sits.
Oh the drunkenness! And the memories to edit.
All the things she said, wishing she hadn’t said it.
Moments of nostalgia, and moments to omit.
With her head against the wall, she sits and she sits.
The life she dreamed of, she didn’t deserve it.
The enemy, it seemed, she couldn’t unnerve it.
The demise of it all, and her Self being the culprit.
In eternal confinement, she sits and she sits.

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