Misunderstood Poem by cynthia Routen

Misunderstood



Hers is a delicate beauty.
Some would call her pixie-like.
She had golden-blonde hair and dazeling saphire blue eyes that were filled with a knowledge beyond her years.
She'd held her mother as she wept from the news of the death of her daughters father.
Then years later the same young girl now a woman held her mother's hand as she watched her mother's life slip away.
No one got too close to her, no matter how beautiful she was.
They were frightened because they didn't know all the trials she had
been through and all the tests she had fought to pass.
No one tried to get to know her, they all thought it was odd that she
never cried.
She did all she could to seem just like them but was it the things she
could do or the things she should?
She was different,
though beautiful.
She was highly
Misunderstood.

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