@girlbeforemirror,

Hey Marg.

Although she saw him, knew to adore him,
She gave him no time, nor inkling or sign,
Though different the game, life's plane pains plain same.
A rose is a rose regardless of the prose,

Remind me of:

All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,

As usual, nice job.

Quill