Flickering Light

[nycdreams]

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.