by Greg Du Pille

Created on: March 08, 2009

Island girl of wholesome grace
youthful, fresh and fair of face
That's what they see,
yet really not the real me.

Can't you tell I need my space
So I can run my lonely race
I'm doing it all at my own pace
Unhappy and alone.

Few that know what went before
The bitter things of which so sore.
Better keep those locked down deep
Pry not, for you will make me weep.

Trusted once my kith and kin
Speak not my need for love aloud
Eggshell pretense of thickened skin
Projected always for the crowd

I have to ask....
I wonder if you really know
In whose hearts love for you will grow?

For all are left to ponder.

Just let them see what you'll unfurl,
what's in the heart of
enigmatic, private,
Island Girl.

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