Standing by the wall
hoping she won’t get noticed.
Watching the blooming of the world go by
without making a sound.

She’s a quiet girl,
shy and afraid,
not saying a word.

She tells herself that
that she’s nothing special
that she’s a thorne, an irritation.

She’s scared to speak
averting her eyes.

You try to be nice,
talk to her,
you see her in the desolate halls
trying to become part of the wall.

You finally pierce the shell with a simple joke
that she’s so carefully created to hide behind.

She talks to you
and you see that she has no idea
how beautiful she is.

Every time you see her,
She opens up coming more and more
out of that shell

She talks to you and laughs.

You take her to see a movie
wanting to ask her something
but you lose your courage.



You look back on that fateful night
and wonder why
you were so weak
you couldn’t ask her.

A drunk driver was on the road
that night and hit our car.
The car rolled.

At her funeral,
only a handful of names were in the ledger.
Eventually you were the only one left.

You leave a rose and your question on her grave.