The Lonely Woman
A perfect crystal of moving liquid,
Falling from her eye,
Casscading down her cheek to land on the ground...
Salty remorse,
Wet pity,
He is no where to be found.
The tears continue.
One for each new scar in her heart,
One for each new hole in her soul.
Her heart shutters with each sob,
Like tender china...breaking.
Another crystal tear...
Another scar...
Another memory gone from the one that left her...
Another hole in her tender soul, never to be replaced...
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