The little girl,
She spun her dreams.
Waited for none,
Chased them alone.
Her heart knows,
What she needs;
Sure of herself,
She seems.
Her dreams are big;
Not of cars or,
Large mansions as such.
Her dreams have people,
People she can trust;
Her dreams have a world,
A world that’s happy;
A world that's sad.
A smile on her lips,
All the time,
Brought on by her dreams.
The world waits on her,
While she walks on…
Realizing her every dream,
With that smile still there.
she can slow down time,
ReplyDeletelike smoke that fills up the evening,
bursting into flame eventually,
warming hearts,
as you toast by her warmth.
Couldn't resist.
Is this a bias or is it just that my poetry inspired you uncontrollably to write this? :)
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