She's so far down. That she can't give up.
It can't get worse, but it wont get better.
People around her, they live it up.
She tries to smile, but the world wont let her.
You try to get inside her realm.
What is it like in those four walls?
Its here, where heartbreak overwhealms.
She cries, but no one hears her calls.
You look so deeply in her eyes.
More pain than you can think.
So she wears a mask, 'tis her disguise.
Fixed. Like the kitchen sink.
When you meet her, your heart will drop.
A chill runs down your spine.
You cannot run. In your tracks, you stop.
To taste Miss Fortune's wine.
Your blissful ignorance will cease.
You wallow in dispair.
Put your John Hancock on the lease.
To live in Miss Fortune's lair.
Re: Miss Fortune
*Sob* poor girl, but great poem keep it up! :2thumbs: