Every face is a window
to a person's fragile heart,
whether curtains drawn
or garish lights aglow,
always the story's start.
Each window's eyes
are like the crack
in the downed blinds,
allowing a peek
at pain or cheer
or fear or wist
and sometimes dance
with the twinkle of love.
And every face
can tell a tale
like no author
of human race
could ever spin
in the notepad
of their mind.
Some tell of horrors:
divorce or abuse,
rape or torture,.
ending in drug abuse.
Others tell of days
rich with fun and spoils,
without troubles or death,
never hearing of toils.
And usually 'tis the face
covered in shadow
of that one wallflower
that makes the most
compelling read,
the page-turner.
