Valerie W.
wends her way into hearts each day
with a smile—timid,
and just a little tired.
One can almost see cartoon hearts
rising from the giant,
innocent light
of her eyes.
She minds herself carefully,
but beneath the managed grace,
a girl hides—
a little disheveled,
a little unsure—
maybe even hurting,
though no one quite knew.
Maybe not even her.
Clr2011