Little Miss

The drink cannot soothe
Nor the wine mend
Instead its used to pretend
All is well, do not worry
I’m dealing with my inner fury

I’m finding a way to cope with it
Finding myself in all of this
Finding me through the bliss

Bliss caused by song or by wine
Hard to know
But perhaps with time
She will find someone that brings her bliss
And give a real purpose to this little miss