From My Perspective

Who am I to write on her,

She's the one who writes always,

But if you ask me what I think of her,

This is from my perspective.

She's here, but she's not,

She's surely lost in a thought,

Of either something that has happened,

Or something she wants,

In a place she's been,

Or a place from which she's trying to move on.

There's probably a someone too,

Whose been on the mind all day, all noon,

She'll never admit it I actually know,

But she'll scribble something as the night goes.

Then she's back here with the rhymes,

And her silence speaks more than she likes,

But if you ask me what I think of her,

She's my perspective and I'm her.