The Solitary Dance

Oh, there once was a woman so peculiar and lone,
Her sorrow resembled a melancholy drone.
She kept to herself, in her little abyss,
Her soul filled with sadness, a bottomless abyss.


You see, she was the master of solitude,
Misery was her blanket, her constant mood.
With a frown on her face, and tears in her eyes,
She wandered through life, lost in her own cries.


Her heart was a garden of wilted flowers,
Where sadness bloomed, hour after hour.
She wore a cloak of gloom, always wrapped tight,
A constant companion, day and night.

Oh, how she relished in her misery grand,
With a sarcastic smile, she'd take a stand.
Mocking the world with her cynical wit,
She danced with sadness, never able to quit.


But behind the facade, deep down inside,
Lay a yearning for love she tried to hide.
Though she kept people at bay, far apart,
Her lonely heart craved a connection, a fresh start.


So let's raise a glass to this woman so sad,
Her strange eccentricities, both good and bad.
May she find solace in the company she seeks,
And embrace the light that sadness often keeps.

By April Cadran