The Pillow

She dances with shadows in the quiet of her room,

A symphony of tears, a melancholy tune.

With every heartbeat, a sigh in the air,

Lonely whispers echoing, a burden to bear.

In crowded spaces, she seeks a fleeting smile,

Conversations like masks, just for a while.

New faces, new stories, a temporary balm,

Yet, beneath the surface, sadness remains calm.

Through laughter and chatter, she wears a disguise,

A mosaic of emotions behind those hazel eyes.

Meeting strangers daily, a desperate spree,

To chase away silence, to set her spirit free.

In the moonlit hours, she unravels the day,

A confidant unseen, where her sorrows may sway.

In the quietest moments, her tears gently fall,

A pillow of solace, witnessing it all.

For in the final whisper, as the night grows still,

I am just a pillow, knowing her heart's uphill.