Who was she

 

She would look up at the stars,

as if they could speak.

Her amber eyes glittering,

in the moonlight beams. 

I felt like I knew her, 

but most of her was a mystery. 

Everyone always brought her back to reality, 

where the only ones who spoke

were the judgmental people on the streets.

But all she ever heard was the music of the trees.

The world changes us, 

it makes us the way it wants us to be.

But when I look up at the stars

and feel the light winter breeze

I wonder what defines me.

So when I see her gazing up at the moon,

I wish I knew

who she was before the world told her who to be.