What They See

What does someone see, when they really look at me? The sadness in my eyes? My permanent disguise? Do they notice that I am alone, always on my own? A smile that used to be. Weary, like the rest of me. I may look ready to run. Afraid that I could become undone. Maybe they nod and walk away. Thinking I have nothing important to say. They may not look at me at all. Not to worry, I won't call. I don't know who or what they see. I am not sure who is the real me.