Her

In the quiet stillness of the night, when the world is fast asleep, She sits alone, her thoughts entwined, her secrets buried deep. You don't know her until you witness the vulnerability in her eyes, As she opens up her wounded heart, baring her soul to the skies. At 3am, the walls around her crumble, the facade begins to fade, And she reveals the battles fought, the scars that never fade. In the hushed moments of darkness, she finds solace in her words, Seeking comfort in the silence, her voice like a song of birds. The weight of the world upon her shoulders, she yearns for release, Aching for someone who'll understand, bring her inner peace. She pours her troubles out, like a river flowing free, And in that moment of connection, you see what she could be. Her vulnerability is her strength, her courage knows no bounds, For it takes great bravery to let your walls come crashing down. In the depths of her despair, she finds a voice that's all her own, And in the stillness of the night, her true essence is shown. So, don't judge her by her smiles or the masks she wears each day, But by the conversations had when the world slips away. For you don't know her until you've sat with her at 3am, And listened as she