There is a girl encased in glass
Though no one seems to know
She spends her life trapped in her box,
Wishing it wasn't so.
The people oft avoid the girl,
They think her rather strange.
She understands; how could they know—
what really is to blame?
She doesn't try to be with them,
She thinks, what is the use?
In this glass I'll always be,
Involuntarily recluse.
YOU ARE READING
Constellations
General Fiction"My thoughts are stars I cannot fathom into constellations" ~a collection of short stories and poetry~
