Eyes are
Windows
Into the soul,
It is said

But hers are
Empty –
Though they have all lain bare,
So little

Emotion is shown
So little
Reaction, almost
None

I wonder, are
The proverbs true?
Or is she simply hiding, out of
Sight out of mind

I wonder, is
Her heart as cold
And bare
And hard

As hard as gold?
Yet not so good,
So true,
So valued – or, I wonder

Is she merely playing
The part she it ordered to
By all she sees, and hears,
All that she knows

Of the world,
Of humanity –
So cruel,
So unjust

All she knows -
For all she knows -
Her somber, morose world is
What it must be, and in so good.