Quiet is she
To those who don't know her,
An innocent child, she seems.

But only to friends,
And not many she knows,
She is wild, and full of daydreams.

She is happy, yet sad,
And she lives a hard life,
But not often does she see her down.

And the days when she's troubled
She knows where she goes,
For she once saw her walking around.

Her world is a book
That has not yet been opened,
With secrets and stories untold.

For her life is a shadow
She keeps to herself,
Not to tell--but to have and to hold.