...from the womb, she cried.
born into this life of endless sorrow,
maybe tomorrow?
As a toddler, she tried.
making a way to her own dreams,
she faintly screams.
A young lass now,
with love on her heart.
could she possibly start?
Only tastes of worldly struggle,
lost her mind.
A lonely old woman,
bent and broken.
need more be spoken?

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growing old.