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Daily I see her walk by with the world on her shoulders, pretending as if she is as light as Swan feathers that gently pass by in the cool wind. Her hair in the breeze and a smile on her face that only God could sculpt. Pulling on her dress and flattening out the creases, she is ready again to face the possibility of rejection that has plagued her for the last few months. Can you see her? Sometimes she just wants to know if anyone is there. She keeps this this locked deep into her heart, and she has given up on the daisies and lillies filled dreams of her youth and settled for grit with burnt down picket fences, but it wasn't always this way, she dreamt of being someone's wife, and was, and they failed...... Miserably. So at night she crys and screams to the mirror that sits in front of her, what can I offer you?!! Or what can you offer me? Do you see me? I mean the part of me that no one sees. Without the mask or facade, do you like me? Because I am insecure. Being naked in front of you is not ideal because no one knows this part of me. But I see her, I understand her, I love her, because she is me.