Post by nycdreams on Aug 30, 2013 13:55:34 GMT -5
She was beautiful and different.
She had compassion for others that
people always yearned for.
She had a serious look
when she listened and understood.
You could tell in her eyes
that she was being sincere.
On a good day,
she could light up a room.
Her laughter and smile was intoxicating.
But most days,
her world was dark,
and the light
didn't shine so bright.
There was always a glimmer of light,
but then it would disappear
and be out of sight.
Although when people saw the glimmer,
they would hold on to it so tight.
Her face was sad,
her eyes looked gloomy and tired.
She was always so quiet
and terribly misunderstood.
But there was something
that they didn't know-
her light was flickering
and almost out for good,
never to return ever again.
But alone she stood-
trying with all her might,
struggling to keep
the flickering light lit.
And she tried and tried.
Maybe it was the people who remembered her
for the way she was,
and not for the person she was trying to be.
Maybe it was the people who said things about her,
and she was so quiet and assumed things about her.
Or maybe it was the people
who brushed her off to the side,
and made her feel like an outsider.
But she would smile and thank them
anyway for their time.
But maybe, just maybe,
they didn't know she didn't ever belong.
And she would walk away and wonder
maybe, just maybe, where she did.
Maybe they didn't know
she was terribly homesick,
even though deep down in her core;
she didn't belong there either.
There was something from her past.
Something stuck in her head
that she couldn't say out loud.
Her light had been blown out.
Some lights don't shine as bright,
or last as long,
but it's still better
than living in complete
and utter darkness
like she does now.
She had compassion for others that
people always yearned for.
She had a serious look
when she listened and understood.
You could tell in her eyes
that she was being sincere.
On a good day,
she could light up a room.
Her laughter and smile was intoxicating.
But most days,
her world was dark,
and the light
didn't shine so bright.
There was always a glimmer of light,
but then it would disappear
and be out of sight.
Although when people saw the glimmer,
they would hold on to it so tight.
Her face was sad,
her eyes looked gloomy and tired.
She was always so quiet
and terribly misunderstood.
But there was something
that they didn't know-
her light was flickering
and almost out for good,
never to return ever again.
But alone she stood-
trying with all her might,
struggling to keep
the flickering light lit.
And she tried and tried.
Maybe it was the people who remembered her
for the way she was,
and not for the person she was trying to be.
Maybe it was the people who said things about her,
and she was so quiet and assumed things about her.
Or maybe it was the people
who brushed her off to the side,
and made her feel like an outsider.
But she would smile and thank them
anyway for their time.
But maybe, just maybe,
they didn't know she didn't ever belong.
And she would walk away and wonder
maybe, just maybe, where she did.
Maybe they didn't know
she was terribly homesick,
even though deep down in her core;
she didn't belong there either.
There was something from her past.
Something stuck in her head
that she couldn't say out loud.
Her light had been blown out.
Some lights don't shine as bright,
or last as long,
but it's still better
than living in complete
and utter darkness
like she does now.