My heart goes out to her
I feel she is trapped.
It appears that way to me,
It’s the view from were I stand.
Is this her original colour
Or is it what she requires?
She has been myriad colours before
This one looks acquired.
When she looks into the mirror
Who does she see?
Between her past and her future
Who does she want to be?
I see glimpses of the real her
Those memories are mine.
She buries it with thoughts and words
Every single time.
I don’t know where we stand
I don’t know how it will be.
I’ve learnt to watch from the outside
Up in the ballroom balcony.
Cheers to all the women out there!
We are all made of myriad colours. Let us learn to learn and love them.
The Thinking Captain! 