this poem needs a title...

She found herself beautifully, tragically flawed,
always jumping for love when she should've crawled.
She'd tell you that'd say different, seeing what she saw--
looking past the imperfections and excluding all exceptions.
Ready to give affection with a heart san protection.
Again and again her heart gets broken.
And they say what doesn't kill, makes stronger.
Again and again I wonder, how much longer?
How much longer can her heart continue to burn?
How much longer until she's loved in return?
Have you ever looked in her eyes?
Have you ever seen them when she cries?
Do you know where she goes when she hides?
Do you follow the tracks of tears when she cries?
That's where she truly resides.
That's where her truth lies.
And it's a sensitive place...
with gentle grace...
soft embrace...
slow pace...
wait...

Within minutes, hours, days
her heart has regains strength.
It beats to a new rhythm that plays
as a new love flows from her heart,
from her soul, to yours, and out to the world.
The girl who loved to love, because she learned it from above.