He wants the best for her;
but when he speaks,
I see a ghost.
He wants the best for her,
and she swears,
that she knows.
But I see her eyes glaze over,
sending her thoughts somewhere far.
As he talks about things she needs to do,
not even thinking of her scars.
Her bruises,
the ones you see and the ones you don't.
His words are sharp as a razors,
making the hurt seem to float,
to the surface.
More than once she has to hear,
of everything she didn't do.
"Don't you worry now, my dear."
Is what I want to say,
though she won't listen.
And sometimes my eyes glisten when hers glisten.
I guess I'm just more proud than I can explain.
I see the passion in her being,
swallowing all the pain.
She blocks it out,
and she's good at it,
I must say.
Dont listen to his words my friend,
he will finally see one day.