“Be near me when the sensuous frame
Is racked with pangs that conquer trust;
And Time, a maniac scattering dust,
And Life, a Fury slinging flame.”
~ Alfred Lord Tennyson, In Memoriam A. H. H.: 50. Be Near Me When My Light Is Low
There’s a girl I know, who’s eyes tell you everything you need to know.
She’s in every reflective surface, about her I’ve written countless verses.
When she’s happy, those eyes they shine and glow, full of warmth and light, that she sheds on everyone in sight.
When she’s sad, they’re as empty as a graveyard, her stare suddenly cold and hard.
I’ve looked in those eyes for my entire life, seen her face when fate brought down the knife; on her fragile, brittle, breakable heart.
The sadness on her shoulders is that of the weight of a thousand boulders.
It pushes her down, until she crawls on the cold ground, but still nobody sees her bruised knees, and no one she knows can deliver the love that she so desperately needs.
She tries and tries, but it’s not enough, it’s never enough, so she cries and cries.
She’s been left behind, countless times, trying to climb the mountain alone, one step forward, two steps back, until she wishes she could press rewind;
and finally see the signs she missed at the right time.
No one understands, they won’t see her shaking hands.
The question is, how long will she live;
If she doesn’t take care of herself?