She walks with grace, but oh so cold,
You can look into her eyes, but you'll never know;
What she is thinking, feeling or wishing,
Is there something this woman is missing?
She never comforts, nor does she confide,
Never exposed, always she will hide,
Always sure, decisive, adament,
Perfectly composed right to the end,
Never a weakness shown, or defeat,
Nobody could possibly be this concrete,
What is behind those deep blue eyes?
Does she let someone close when she cries?
Will she ever be real and true?
Or walk with mystery her whole life through...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.