Ataraxia
Bluelighter
I see a girl sitting alone.
With an expressionless face,
She stares at apparently nothing.
There's a distant look in her eyes
I hate what I see.
Occasionally, someone will be daring
And approach her, trying to reach her.
She'll just turn her head and looks away,
Acting as if they aren't really there.
I hate what I see.
She pushes them away so easily -
It takes no effort when you're so detached.
But as she gets up and walks away,
Tears are silently streaking her cheeks.
I hate what I see.
I fear there is nothing I can do
That could possibly change her ways.
It might not be so disturbing
If the girl I saw wasn't me.
With an expressionless face,
She stares at apparently nothing.
There's a distant look in her eyes
I hate what I see.
Occasionally, someone will be daring
And approach her, trying to reach her.
She'll just turn her head and looks away,
Acting as if they aren't really there.
I hate what I see.
She pushes them away so easily -
It takes no effort when you're so detached.
But as she gets up and walks away,
Tears are silently streaking her cheeks.
I hate what I see.
I fear there is nothing I can do
That could possibly change her ways.
It might not be so disturbing
If the girl I saw wasn't me.
