She keeps her head down as she walks the streets
Her eyes downcast to whomever she meets
Travelling by car, she sees no-one new,
The position she's sat in, resisting the view.
Out of respect:
Her behaviour, might be thought to be.
Unknown to the world, she's protecting;
numbly;
...
...Dead dogs,
Quarrels,
Upset faces,
The misused,
They all scar her,
get her down,
have her thinking and wondering,
'why is the world so full of blues?'
It's all a misconception;
...The mumbles, the lies;
That little miss shybird, ''...is really just, 'shunning', us guys''
What it really isn't,
for sure. ...: Is her asking attention, craving much more.
No.
Not at all.
That was never the plan.
:To All the weary eyes, the witnesses,
who are noticing; calling her act a scam;
Your conclusions are misleading,
Your false truths most dipleasing.
What really is going on,
Is that this girl is distressed,
all torn.
Provoked by the things going on around her,
A frown is carved upon her days,
Making her grief everlasting longer.
Surrounded by the clueless
Mistakenly Judged,
She's been topics to persons of pure ignorance.
Neverthless,
dislike
or no dislike;
She Resumes to her insecure strides
Knowing that the world needs no more blight.
© J-d S. J
