She is trapped in desolation bubbles.
A lonely single,
Unable to stifle her insecurities’ stabbing babbles.
For Liberty her heart jingles.
In a heartening hymn,
The jingle hums,
‘Get off that couch!’
‘You’re not a slouch!’
But in self-pity she clutches her Pringles.
Knowing there’s no reward in going out to mingle.