Unwritten Postcard

The tear breached stances
amble in self-belief,
As the voids beneath
Are teeming with grief.

There are evading glances
And stuttering screeches,
Shaking slight ones,
And plain faced elites.

There faces are scrawny,
And work; reflectively,
Of the difference between
Looks and the beauty.

Looks...how their image
Is decidedly unchanged?
To the untrained eye
Who sometimes miss the pained

They look too deep
And consider too much
So, let them stumble over their own feet
Then re-tie their laces, as such

Do they want to break free?
And allow safety in...
Where they know all is secure
But this, causing debating,

Is really why they quiver so much!
And this is why they cry!
This is why they are afraid!
Of what is on the horizon's eye...

And this is why their faces
When scrubbed so hard
Is revealed to be nothing
But an unwritten postcard...

...What you guys think??
I'd appreciate advice and comments XD
thanks x x x