Frustration's creases line his
forehead of otherwise perfection.
Her mind is the only mystery.
The voices penetrate consciousness,
none of them being hers.
Stepping into the unknown
is a foreign feeling.
A beautiful crooked smile
of understanding is usually
plastered on his beauty.
And yet he takes her hand,
caressing the eclipse of her thoughts.
Her shield keeps him out,
he must find out the normal way.
With this, a beautiful crooked smile
of secrets is now his mask.






Thank you my dear
9 old applause
