And so she stood with her hands resting, restlessly in eachother

an action made to display a sense of calm

but that was overshadowed by her constant picking of the skin on her right thumb

she stood like an ancient stone statue,

thats has been left to wither away, since the civilization who built it,

has ceased away long ago

like a broken idol who once stood for something grand.

But still there is a slight smile on her lips,

what might such a slight smile hide?

is it there to mask the truth?

or is it an expression of the realization that within pain theres always a pathway to joy?

you would have to ask her, although im not sure you would get the honest answer.

Theres people walking around her, minding their own business

theres lifes unfolding around her,

there is, or there once was, a life unfolding in her too.