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Rated: ASR · Other · Contest Entry · #1965920
This my thoughts I jotted down and tried to make sense...
  There she sits with her back to me
  'Bout to break out of her reverie
  So caught up in all that she feels
  She forgets I' m around, around for real.

  Look how she prattles, guffaws in glee
  And soon she 'll give in to melancholy
  She 'll fret and mourn invariably
  But no she won' t, won' t turn to me.

  She takes delight in life' s panorama
  She' s not one to mellow the drama
  Lost in her world of make - believe
  Yet I' m the first, the first she' ll leave.

  She latches on to all that appeals
  Announces her likes in joyful peals
  When it' s no longer there for the taking
  It' s me who mends, mends the aching.

  And there she stands now facing me
  Without me, she knows, she' s all but free
  Still she' ll go on with this fiddle-dee-dee
  Coz the woman in the mirror mirrors me.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1965920