Lonely Woman

Now I bear a sickly face,
And in his arms have I found no grace,
He leaves me every morning in a sadden daze,
And I finally accept my lonely place.

He treats me with disdain even in my weaken state,
And I truly wonder if indeed he is my blessed mate,
He chides and mocks me not knowing my future fate,
Not minding that this sickness might make me late.

I am looked upon with sadness and pity,
Whisperings of a woman treated like an abandoned kitty,
Yet I am but a woman, a wife, a mother who needs only to be smitten,
But all he does is leave me bitten.

This sickness will not be my end,
This sickness will not make me bend,
He will see me someday has a friend,
That he needs always treat like a fern.

dido 4 eva