She Poem by Lum Chabot

She



Her eyes, glistening like the tranquil waters,
Ever searching for something new,
Reflecting the pain, but hiding it well,
Telling no one what she knew,

Her eyes alight with inner fire,
Sparkling as the morning dew,
Yet gently fading in wonderment,
Of how you will always be you.

Living in her awestruck state,
Falling out with her transient crue,
Trying to understand her plight,
Trying to see from her point of view,

I think about how much you care,
About everything I am and do,
And how you are so ever fair,
Yielding never to any hue,

The thing you are is everything,
And deserving as you’re just due,
Looking deep beneath the protective mask,
You’re simply pulchritude.

Her eyes, ever searching for something new,
Giving away nothing that she ever knew,
Sparkling as the morning dew,
Awestruck, for you are always you,
Yet slowly parting from her crue,
I still try to see from her point of view,
Caring so much about what I am and do,
So fair, yielding never to any hue,
Deserving as you are just due,
You’re simply full of pulchritude…

And yet…

You are troubled, by a select few,
Blind to see you’re as the dew,
So new, If they only knew…

Yet I am not one so blind as to not see the dew,
And take in all that I never knew,
Awestruck in your perfect pulchritude,
All such reasons are why I love you.

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