Observer of a Gentle Soul

   
 
And as she called it love
and put him on his very own pedestal
she knew deep within
that it wasn’t  
 
all I could do is watch in complete silence  
 
she was beautiful
yet eyes seemed empty
sunken as the depth of the deepest sea
soulless, a one-way ticket bound for abyss 
 
the saddest thing was 
she could never see it for herself 
blinded by her need not to acknowledge the truth
 
glancing into the broken mirror
was something she could never bring herself to do 
for fear of being unfaithful to weakness and denial  
 
so she just brushed it all off 
as if it was dust from her bookshelf 
 
reading, oh yes 
she loved to read
yet she lost her passion for opening the pages
she left her books upon those shelves
covered in thick dust
 
and all he did
was remind her
she was worth nowt 
nothing, nada, niente
 
until one day
and quite out of nowhere  
she found the courage 
to stand up for herself
 
the pedestal finally taken back abruptly
 
those dark dense shelves now dust free 
Just open books of her favorite poets
men who actually taught her something 
of love, of dignity and of pride 
 
once again, she believed 
in each morning
and in each flower that bloomed
 
she now dusts those beautiful books 
with eyes that sparkle 
her soul finally returned
 
the thing most extraordinary to me? 
 
 
she never spoke with a voice of anger
of those darkest of moments 
 
she'd simply say…
 
“I wouldn't be me without them
because, acquiring knowledge is always a lesson
even if it’s most unpleasant”
 
and I? 
 
well, I silently admire her beauty
from my reflection
 
in my now...
unbroken mirror.