Can’t Get Any Worse
She wrings her hands,
pale and shaking,
the tears flowing slowly
down her face and into the ocean.
Her form is still,
standing quiet on the sand
watching the tide wash in.
Lonely. Lonely. Lonely.
The waves seem to whispers
sad promises of love long gone.
She’s so lost without him,
teetering on the edge of insanity
hoping for some bit of escape.
Dry your eyes,
it can only get better.
It sure can’t get any worse.
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