March 12, 2012

She's not telling her name...

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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