Thursday 15 September 2011

That Girl

She plays with clips and bands, paper and pen.
She sings the melodies attached to every string around.
She dreams of meeting her 'prince on a white horse',
Is it like the one that Taylor found?

She bears with a smile; cynical looks and green eyes,
Covertly she carries contentment when eulogized.
She adores heels, dresses, flowers and colors.
Yet, she lives by the smile of her lover.

She is me, I am you and you are we.
A girl, a daughter, a wife, a mother!



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