She didn’t recognize the whys,
The whats, the all-important whos.
Her vision blocked by blasted love,
She too long growled a lonely blues.
The rain was made to fall on her,
The snow designed to block her way,
Wrapped in her rancid angry shawl,
Stumbling and mumbling through each day.
She thought just once she’d found magic,
But that had flown so long before.
She keeps on singing and running,
Seeking another open door.
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