Her life,a merry-go-round,
Lore is of ,Her emotional dead-end, found.
Cock -She, pseudo-corpses rose ,once she crow,
Raised brows alarms her, FLEE, else they would mow.
Whole midnight, she guarded brides-to-be, sharing her halter ,
Faulty chose, love's shelter, trolled, as if she raided their altar!
She who gifted mirrors,
Broke thousands, as touch up session drowns, besides ,bus stand barriers.
Social-She , ditched future, soul nurturer,
World left her, still path's manholes- being filled by her teacher , her lover!
Wishing Her ground seated ,on see-saw,
on who's mercy ,raised ,must be bound,
Now I confess,I hate merry-go-round !
R