by Nick Gisburne
Her photograph is what she fears the most
A portrait of the moment, of the truth
While others smile in every pose and post
She mourns the stolen mysteries of youth
No comfort will convince her she is wrong
She threatens praise, with poison and a frown
In every other way her mind is strong
But, looking through the lens, her soul will drown
She hides behind the bitterness of age
Dismissing all her beauty, all her grace
Instead, she keeps her colours in a cage
Too terrified to take their rightful place
Her photograph brings anguish to her eyes
An image she is certain to despise
