To betray dying soul

Her mind as poor as it is porous

But when sniffing out the tabloid noxious

Threats abound the cradle of suspicion

As she waits ever so in steadfast reaction

Much practiced in drawing her oppressive past

In the presence of her long-gone patriarch

The fine lines gripping her bare naked face betrays

Her window on the world never a-changin’ her ways

Slipping away in effortless calculation

She makes for no wanted celebration

Life is tough!

Life is a struggle!

She mantras in her duplex of a bubble