Young And Old

Who are you, young girl? Where are you from?

I haven't seen anyone look so different.

You are a color made of mixing many colors,

But this color have I not seen before.

Your brows are like a paint to a sketch,

Without moving your mouth, they speak what the mind feels.

 

I saw you one winter noon, sulking with your bag,

Full of burdens, dragging it across the street.

You are never in a crowd but the crowds talking all about you.

The way you look and digest every detail of the environment,

Like you are giving importance for no reason.

Your sarcastic puns are like bandages on your deep wounds

And like curtains to an ongoing crime scene.

 

You are worth being captured, young girl, yet I always find you behind the camera.

I have seen girls paint with brushes on paper but your art is that of words.

No colors, yet the picture described so beautifully.

Your words can bring color to a blind man's imagination, young girl.

Other girls beautify themselves, fall in love and cry in vain,

What are you waiting for young girl?

 

You smile at others, talk like you know beyond, yet you're quite.

But when you talk, we would just ponder and dwell in your words.

How could you grow beyond your age, young girl?

I have seen you sadly contended, your skillful hands holding a book and

Drifting off like a cloud does to another country.

We have seen you pour your rain of knowledge on everyone young girl. Where is your pride?

You metaphorically talk and startle me.

I would think you're joking but you would be sharing your veiled pain to me,young girl.

 

 

You're lucky, they say, then why are you so glum young girl?

What else do you need to keep you happy?

You are selfless, humble, have an ocean of humor.

What keeps you so aloof?

I saw you eat like a hungry wolf Young Girl

yet your body was like you would starve.

Long legs, Long hands, skin with color of lifeless sand.

You're not the stereotypical elegance my girl,

you define beauty in your own way.

What else do you want young girl?

 

I had to know.

I saw you stare out your window, with a tear down your sculpted cheeks.

Why were you crying young girl?

You told me, that day, that with a thousand stars in the night sky, you'd still lost your moonshine.

I couldn't dare ask you what it meant young girl.

To the answer you gave, I sensed the shadow of a hidden painful storm.

I turned away and walked away from you young girl,

I let you return to your world.

A world I dare not imagine about.

A young girl and her old life was what I've seen.

You're like sunshine behind dense clouds, young girl.

You'd find planets like me revolve around you.