Pressure

How can one soul,
Be filled with so much sorrow,
Regret,
And agony?
So young,
So beautiful,
Everyone knew,
Except for,
The girl in the mirror,
And the one who controlled her conscious,
Not a single light bulb lit up for her,
In fact,
Each one,
Fused in her honor,
With a dark path ahead,
You tell me,
Could she have seen left,
Or right,
Or even the ground beneath her feet?

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