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Wallflower
I see her alone in far distant breeze;
as umbra despair her, which does not please.
I looked into her eyes, and felt emptiness still-
a little bit of hope as she falls ill.
It is sadness which draws me to her;
the feelings of lost and fear as it were.
She hides that tear so no one to see
what lies within her, the feeling of free.
She appears translucent in a crowd of many;
she is to us but a lowly memory.
She longs for that which I cannot give;
a feeling of love, a reason to live.
poem
by
Adam M. Snow
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