She's hiding her face behind mediocre masks
She's not telling her name as some other would
At night she is drawing with crazy paints
Insane ideas of her solitude
She writes confessions in an old notebook
The wind kisses her hot shoulders with tenderness
She's always saying that all's good
Maybe just to stay on ease
She is unique like a crystal
Her style is old-fashioned, not new at all
She will for sure raise many a pedestal
Of someone's dreams and inner call
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