Every day , after that moment,
When she toasts and turns,
Thinking that maybe it happened,
Maybe it didn't happen,
Something we fear more than illness,
In this desperate country of ours,
And she thinks of all the possibilities,
But sees no way through for her,
Every thing will be against her odds,
So she cries and prays ,
She be given a chance;one more,
She does what needs to be done,
And there's only one line,
She rejoices and thanks the skies,
And the cycle repeats itself.
©chebby642
C