Behind those beautiful eyes,
Teardrops sparkled like rain,
Inside that beautiful smile,
Rose a silenced scream of pain.
She wanted to let it all out;
To free her anguish with a roar;
For inside that beautiful mind,
Sorrow crawled along the floor.
She had a book of little proverbs,
That she'd quote once in a while,
Little anecdotes to misery,
Invoked to supplicate a smile,
An act of self-persuasion,
A self-made mask to hide behind,
She done well to hide her feelings,
From those outside her mind.
She'd never raise or point a finger,
To accuse or portion blame,
She simply bottled up the torment,
And shrugged away the shame.
For she was strong enough to cope;
Least that's what she told herself;
She'd never ask for sympathy,
For sympathy never helped.
More than once I watched her,
Try to keep up the pretense,
But she made me keep my distance,
Said she didn't need my reins.
So I backed away and let her be,
For it was not my place to pry.
Now I wish I'd pried a little more,
And sought the truth behind those eyes.