See Her –
She sits in silent reflection
staring out a window she can’t see through,
wondering at the days of
misfortune the world has heaped upon her.
“I am pretty aren’t I”, she asks
Her hips have just the right amount of flare,
Her breasts are well rounded,
her eyes are deep and mysterious as the night
She can turn a phrase and engage in interesting conversation
just as well as the next.
So why, why, why…
Does “that guy” not see her.
or get her.
Perhaps she dwells too much in the shadows
they cast and not in her own
by Philip Wardlow 2014