The Woman Who Never Was

[couchgrouch]

The Woman Who Never WasYoung Julie said she liked,ballet lessons Monday nightscos that's what her Mom did at her ageshe gave up trying to paint,cos one day her Dad complainedartists make a fickle wagelike a reflection on a windowpaneshe faded in others' light till she becamethe woman who never waswhose real heart was rarely seenwhose own desires became dustas she lived out others' dreamscrying alone somewhere,just a whisper in the airthe woman who never wasJulie told herself she loved,some man her mom approved ofbut that was a mask in her disguisehe'd pick out the clothes she'd wear,she stand at mirrors and stareat the stranger in her eyesthat's not how her life was meant to besurrounded by people who could only seethe woman who never waswhose real heart was rarely seenwhose own desires became dustas she lived out others' dreamscrying alone somewhere,just a whisper in the airthe woman who never wasshe left to paint another lifehoping her canvas would waitshe wanted to cover the pastthat was a sad self-portraitof the woman who never waswhose real heart was rarely seenwhose own desires became dustas she lived out others' dreamscrying alone somewhere,just a whisper in the airthe woman who never was(c)2004 Robert George