The girl likes her hat tilted to the right,
Low enough to cover her eyes.
She doesn't want people to recognize her,
To interrogate her. All she wants is a little peace.
She must leave the house, but she needs some space.
A recluse, some time at ease.
When she tugs at the hat and pulls it closer to her face,
Something is gnawing at her, bothering her.
No one cares to ask because no one knows.
They don't know because she doesn't show.
Her heart is clearly on her sleeve,
But that sleeve is covered with a coat,
So the world can't see it.
It's invisible, but it exists.
No one has shown any interest
In knowing why that sleeve is covered with a coat,
Why that face is masked by that
Hat Tilted to the Right.