I found this in a book of poetry and have no idea how long ago this was written. She sat by herself; feeling lonely, but secure. Secure in knowing that she could trust no one but her own self. Well, herself and God. But even the God factor had been questioned. I mean, she never learned to trust those physically there, so the belief that someone she could not see nor feel could be more trustworthy had always been a hard thought to grasp. She knew that her circle had much love for her. I mean, it wasn’t the idea of love that she had a problem with. Although the issue of trust somehow misguided the way she expressed and interpreted love. The love of her friends and family didn’t mean that she could always count on them. She learned that lesson at an early age. People are fallible. This truth was obtained from those who conceived her. Humanly good intentions can still yield undesired results. No matter how go...