She hides herself, thoughts tucked away
Inside a box, paint peeling, worn and cracked
Beneath a bed where lies are told when night smothers day
And from the corners voices call of things she always lacked
Sepia faded could-have-beens hang crooked on the walls
that echo words she should have said
but lips fell silent, never answered late night desperate calls
and lovers tender touch that lived somewhere only in her head
For heart’s are tender, yet she craves what would have been
Picks flowers from him, the one that smiled, or so she thought
And how it lead to all the beauty still unseen
That might have been, but years pass, and still has come to nought
And so once more she lifts the lid and places hope inside
Dust filled, it sits, another day perhaps, maybe
And voices call, quicky it closes, time to hide
Tears in the dust, no one will ever see
Afterwards 