The Secret Person of the Heart

A poem about the shy and lonely

Some people lead, and decide what we need, they are sure and decisive and proud

Others tag along, in a compliant throng, they have to be part of the crowd

But there are those who are staid, because they are afraid, of the prospect of being despised

And so they withdraw, behind a safe door, and live in the shade all their lives

She's alone and so tense, when school days commence, enduring the chaos she sees

The object of jest, ignored by the best, chosen last in the sporting decrees

She knows she's no belle and the spots really tell, as she stoops low to appear less tall

They see freckles and glass, they see a clumsy outcast, and an unfashionable scruff at the ball

Yet, away from the crowd, she sings sweetly and loud, tends animals in her kind way

She is loyal and wise, and does not despise, those less fortunate and in dismay

She is zealous and funny, and her smile always sunny, and her failings she does not try to hide

And if they cared to pry, and look into her eyes, they would see she is beautiful inside

There was another young girl, whose flame was unfurled, when she became woman at first

From pain of the past, to smashed looking glass, and the thought of a small breasted curse

With the world she contended, those she loved, she offended, till their love was exhausted and spent

Once lost from its sight, she could not do right, and spiralled, and twisted and bent

Yet, some could recall, when she was still small, and eager and funny and sweet,

When she used to run, to please everyone, and joyfully cuddle and greet

For this girl was true, and genuine through, and barren of pretense and pride

Yet most could not see, that, always was she, so innocent and beautiful inside

This lad is not strong, and he has never belonged, to a gang or a club or a team

For stammer and blush, are easily crushed, by the boys who are considered the cream

No sport and no game, no President's name, but the task of retrieving the ball

Dismissed and derided, by those that decided, that a man should be seven feet tall

But his mind is a place, where wonders take place, and brilliance comes to the fore

Pouring out words, and music unfurled, which causes the spirit to soar

When he sings, he's not slow, and his closest ones know, that his rare gift cannot be denied

Though hidden away from the world's selfish gaze, his voice is so beautiful inside

And another is she, a mother of three, who's fleeting love has long disappeared

Yet the blame she will take, and guilt she can't shake, as she pauses her dreams for some years

Mistakes, she has made, and her children will pay, and gratitude she is denied

And she must run with the crowd, and pretend she is proud, when she really is dying inside

Had they known her, before sadness occurred, they would have seen trust and a friend

Unselfish and wise, swift to empathize, and never would her principles bend

For she would have shone, a rare companion, one that would stand by their side

Through danger and despair, she'd always be there, because she is so beautiful inside

He now lives alone, since his beloved passed on, taking with her his passion and pride

He still rises at dawn, though his work is long gone, and his home is so cluttered inside

He dreads stepping out, where the young taunters shout, of his baldness, his stoop and his skin

In a world that thinks age, is a lonely dark cage, where you go when you're ready to give in

Yet stored in his mind, is a library in kind, that holds so much wisdom and lore

He found joy, and true love, searched for God up above, knowing peace, yet enduring a war

A father, a son, a hero when young, supporting the poor and the tired

Once loved and adored, by many who saw, the man who is beautiful inside

When we think of our friends, and what drew us to them, was it their job, their hobbies, their smile?

Or the music they chose, their hair or their clothes, or was it something we could not define?

Because we need to be sure, it was something more pure, something worth the investment of you

Cos, Good looks don't mean kind, and pretty fades with time, but loyalty will always hold true

For a good sense of fashion doesn't breed compassion, and a hot date can often cause burns

Bravado is fleeting, and self-confidence self defeating, and sarcasm often returns

Do we want fun, and affairs on the run, or are we really looking for more?

If not, then dig deep, and be ready to weep, for calamity stands at your door

For, when all's said and done, we fear being alone, and we fight for the souls that we choose

Whether kindness or cruel, the wise or the fool, with them we will win or we lose

And hope settles down, and wanders around, searching for one who'll be kind

So don't settle for less, but administer this test, and see if they are beautiful inside

Dedicated to the memory of my sweet niece, Toni, who took her own life