Veiled
You do not see me, not really.
You walk past me, like I am a ghost.
No second thoughts for me,
No intrigued: who is she? What's her story?
It's like I am not here.
I don't mind, not really.
I am a normal girl, blond hair,
Blue eyes -ice blue, cold blue.
Regular girl, nothing strange...
Scandinavian, plain dressed.
Just your ordinary student;
Not too smart, not too neat.
Yet I am veiled, but not in black,
My veil is the kind you cannot see.
Every inch; covered, hidden,
Within this veil no one forced me to wear.
It's my protection, my final escape.
It's my protection, my hiding place.
All you get to see are:
My eyes, my glaciers of pain.
And they will tell you: I am hurt.
But there's no way through my veil;
Because you do not see me, not really...
poem by Anne Harkonen
Added by Poetry Lover
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