No Longer Rose

The woman looks in the mirror,
Falling down her cheek a tear.
Rouge red lips
Smuge the glass of wine she sips.

She cries as she takes the pills,
Taking more than her fill.
Her life so bad,
Her eyes so sad.
Was it worth all the pain?
Is it any wonder she was no longer sane?
Slowly she takes her last drink.
Too late, she thought, too late to think.
Slowly she died;
As she did, tears of joy she cried.
There was no fear;
Then she cried her last tear.
The tear was her ticket out of her hell,
No longer was she under fate’s cruel spell.
Although her cheeks were no longer rose,
It was the end of her decieving pose.

By avalyn

avalyn's pissed off right now...looking for a place to vent...