By Panna Moloabi
That mysterious girl,
Her hair was a waterfall down her back,
Her eyes,
An abyss surrounded by water.
She was parading in the valley,
Like a leaf in the soft breeze bringing peace to this harsh world.
She spoke,
Her voice felt like dandelions rubbing against your arm,
So soft,
Yet she spoke with such purpose,
She almost sounded confident.
Her arms hung off her body like Willow branches,
Swaying with each step she takes,
As delicate as a rose petal falling to the ground.
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