The poor lady sits and cries,
miserably from her bedroom,
her heart has sunk so low,
like a ship swallowed by the sea,
no words are medicine that can cure,
her from the heart break sickness,
she was once a lady with a smile,
but in the grave now rest her love,
and with it so too does she,
it is not enough when
her tears are whipped,
or when a shoulder is given,
for her to lean,
what she needs
is now in the ground burred,
but the ghost of the past,
is what keeps her alive today,
and even in her missory,
she still finds a light,
to help keep her heart,
safe from the dark,
in life's tragedy,
but on this day for the rest,
of her life's years,
her eyes shall rain tears,
but no matter how much she cries,
I shall try to lift,
her broken mind, soul and heart,
because my love for her,
is deeper that the oceans,
of the Earth.
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