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She fills up her day
Leaving no moment to waste
Better to move on
Than wallow in place

She takes in the sun
The promise of April’s sigh
Politely she smiles as
strangers pass her by

Street lamps
Turn to gold
curtain splits for the show
and no one can ever see the pain
of what remains

She sits at a desk
That she keeps bare and plain
doing far more than she should
for what she gets paid

She knows what to say
To the women in the aisles
Telling their tales of
homes filled with child

Street lamps
Turn to gold
curtain splits for the show
and no one can ever see the pain
of what remains

She closes her eyes
the darkness a cavern to climb
all that she yearns for
is hidden from the light

She touches his brow
Cradles her angel to sleep
A memory holding a candle to  
what will never be again

Street lamps
Turn to gold
curtain splits for the show
and no one can ever see the pain
of what remains