Reconciled

She was

Unseen.

She knew that the people she met

Simply looked right through her,

As if she were invisible.

She was

Unheard.

Her humor, ideas, opinions

Were met with blank faces, ignored.

Soon she alone listened to her inner voice.

She was

Unknown.

Her darkest fears, her dearest dreams,

Remained unspoken, held within,

Nourished in her secret garden.

Unseen,

Unheard,

Unknown…

Yet somehow she was reconciled to this existence:

Better to be unseen than to only see outer appearance,

Better to be unheard than to speak nothing of substance,

Better to be unknown than to be an open blank book.