She sits to contemplate something – anything, really
No-one’s too sure, for she’s been crying, immeasurably, agonisingly, so
A pretty and voluptuous aside altogether delicately placed picture of undeniable nakedness – attractive on any such eye that shall indeed struggle to have her
With scars settled upon nauseatingly strong
None too physical but mental rather
These men have time after time sought her out and wrestled this fine beauty
To the bones of a soon-to-be crippled being
She yearningly packs an empty bag, caring to flee