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A woman with the beauty of a rose,
Her hair goes back as the wind blows.
A woman no one knows,
Her true self to no one she shows.
If she did they would judge and flee,
Only causing her more agony.
She has not shown,
How she feels alone.
Her silent cry,
She wants some one by her side,
For all the years,
With invisible tears.
They whisper about her,
Her vission starts to blur.
She hears the awful things they say,
And wishes they would just go away.
To her they have shown,
She is better off being alone.
 Kunoburedeji · Tue Aug 25, 2009 @ 12:21pm · 3 Comments |
