When people see her in the street <br />On her way to work or the market place, <br />They see the sway of her dress <br />And the beauty of her face; <br />Such a wonderful woman they suppose <br />Without seeing her soul <br />Hidden from the world, <br />Without glancing the secret sadness she conceals. <br /> <br />Sometimes there is laughter at the bar, <br />Loud conversations at cafes, <br />Non-serious moments of seemingly joyfulness <br />Surrounding herself with friends, <br />But those friends fail to notice <br />The tears that linger within. <br /> <br />I’m not really better than the rest, <br />My imagination sees her singing in the moonlight <br />And wrapped in the embrace of a handsome man, <br />But somehow I know she is hurting <br />And I just want to walk her home <br />And pray with all the birds in urban trees <br />To keep her safe and make her happy.<br /><br />Uriah Hamilton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/birds-in-urban-trees/
