Woman of Sorrow
She wakes to a world that forgets she exists,A ghost in the mirror, a name on no lips.Her laughter was buried in years left behind,Now silence is kinder than voices unkind.
The walls do not whisper, they stare and they sneer,Mocking the weight of her uncried tears.Her hands once held love, now they cradle the air,A widow to hope, too broken to care.
She drowns in a bed that remembers his scent,Time moves, but her heart is forever cement.No letters, no footsteps, no knock on the door—She is the woman the world needs no more.

Woman of Sorrow
Puplished 5th March 2025
Poetry
10064