She thought you'd promise to always be there,
stand by her side, everyday and night
even when things were not quite right.
One morning, when she awoke, you just weren't there
she called everyone, and tried everything
but you, her love, were no where to be seen.
She came home early, so she could
seach, to and fro, everywhere
just to find a note or, even a strand of hair
she sat outside and cried and cried
the rain came down so hard that night,
she walked up stairs and wrote while she wept
and layed the note down on the desk aside.
the next morning she was foudn dead,
they looked down at her and said, " Tears in her eyes,
cuts in her cheeks,
brusies and blood covering,
her once beautiful face." They picked up the note and read what she'd written. "but to me love and fighting is a waste."
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