• Here she sits
    In this garbage riden park.
    She sits on that same wooden bench.
    That bench is always there,
    It never leaves-
    It will never leave.

    She sits on that bench ,
    with her knees drawn to her chest.
    She is crying silent tears,
    no one is there for her.
    Except for that same bench.

    That bench never leaves her,
    Just like she never talks.

    As the seasons change,
    her mood doesn't.
    She is always depressed,
    hoping,someone,anyone will give her the time of day.
    But no one does.
    They just walk by and ignore her,
    Bet that bench, that old wooden bench
    is always there for her.

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