Loneliness and bitterness
fill her empty shell
Her lying words of love
slowly craft her hell
Trapped within the cell
of dark and twisted brain
All that she can ever give
is cold uncaring pain
Not a tendril of tender emotion
can reach into that soul
Except her own self pity
Poured endlessly down that hole
James Jarrett
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/chez-2/
