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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