Every now and then 
And over the years
Through unguarded moments and glances
She would give me a peak into her soul
Her panic room doors were steel
Every new scar of hers was reinforced
With new layers of Kevlar
And when she felt like laughing aloud
She would guard her mouth
With her beautiful little hands
So that I would not see
That the little girl living within
Could still laugh... and cry.
Beautiful. And your title is a perfect metaphor!
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