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Réponse à: Jake Elwood
She sits there,
Watching the days go by.
She contemplates life’s worth,
And her place in it.
It’s poignant, her state of mind;
Her emptiness is obvious.
She tries too hard to grasp
That which she cannot
She feels in her heart,
She must love.
But her brain tells her;
Not to get involved.
And her brain, as always,
Is in control.
Every day comes and goes,
As empty and lifeless as the next.
Excitement becomes routine.
And words become scripted.
Her eyes glaze over,
As she tries to remember:
Life before expectations,
Life before limitations.
Her heart longs for something more,
Something tangible and true.
But her brain tells her:
To be wary, to set her guard up high.
And her brain, as always,
Is in control.
Each step she takes is planned,
With ultimate precision.
Each movement is deliberate,
And her life becomes a script.
Her heart tells her
“Break out of the mold!”
Her brain tells her
“Follow the lines!”
And her brain, as always,
Is in control.
Slowly the days blend together.
And she wonders, now, her age,
As she writes a note to her mother,
With tears running down her checks.
She sits, gun in hand,
Silent, bar her gasping sobs.
Metal cool against her forehead,
She must remind herself to breath.
Naught but twice did she think,
As she pulled the trigger,
Knowing, Finally,
Her heart was in control
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