I found her writing poems Things she can't forget
Blistering her hands Favorite past time
Try to grasp a dream Let go of the pen
Oh how they let you down It's not what matters now
She tries to make it on her own
She does not know just where to turn
She takes what's left and starts all over
It takes all she has to get anywhere Pages drift away
She cannot be seen TV steals her time
Lock them all away In a box under her bed
Kept there all this time Pretending to be far away from the inside
Some day your eyes will see her again, but not today
It won't be today