Her eyes
Were always
Full of mischief
They sparkled with delight,
And always had
That special glint in them.

But if you looked closely enough
You would see
Swollen rims
From crying herself to sleep.
That sparkle
You'd think you knew so well
Was merely a mask
For the true dullness
And lack of hope
Within.

And perhaps
If you looked longed enough
You would see
The very beginnings
Of a supressed tear.

If only
I realised what was going on
In her eyes
Before it was too late.