A Girl I Met
One evening I met a girl
Brushing through the knots in her hair,
Combing through her soul.
She was dark and mysterious,
Her eyes with a very little glint of hope.
But I can tell, she wasn't like this;
Skinny arms and legs,
Constantly nagging herself
About her perfect imperfections,
But I can tell, she wasn't like this.
She believed in love,
Thought whom she loved won't betray her
But little did she know
That it was love itself that gave up on her.
Void of any emotion,
Yet held so much behind them.
I wish I could help her,
Touch her and tell her it's going to okay,
But I simply stared,
at the shining surface in front of me
Where I met the girl
Who wasn't me,
But the mirror in front
Told a different story;
I wasn't like this.