Composure

The light on your face, on that night in the snow;
I knew better back then, but something in me let go.
But what does it matter, if you never see the sun?
Locked up in your room, you're coming undone.
Perfect composure, out on the street,
Frozen by fear of expectations you never could meet.
Something rich, something strong, that you lost long ago,
Is the only thing that could keep you,
But you'll never again know.