Another rosy fingered dawn,

Barefoot again on the manicured lawn

She holds it down, always where she’s supposed to be

Perfectly cast in his Odyssey

CH.

She pours her heart out searching for who she used to be

Head never touches a pillow

Every night, every thread unraveled, unraveled

All part of the script

Essential, invisible, wings clipped

Hours turn to days, seasons come and go

She knows he’ll never choose to come home

So fast, kids came then they go

Better trust the gods than the woman you know

Not everyone excels at archery

So lucky, she gets to be Penelope