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The Beautiful Girl

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The beautiful girl, she sits all alone,
Hoping and praying in her beautiful home,
That someone will find her
And take her away, from those who confine her.
And just let her play, no need to define her.
Some memories she has, please don’t remind her.
Let her fold them away, into a binder.
She wonders what life brings
Will it be like a bee that stings?
Or perhaps like a butterfly that spreads its wings.
She hopes and prays for all these things.
Confused and feeling misunderstood,
Would she go back, if she could?
She doesn’t think that she would.
For those things helped her get to now,
And she’s changed for the good, she thinks, somehow.
She wonders if she’ll ever WOW!
Or Will she be plain, wash into the crowd.
Or will she have presence and be loud?
She’ll never know, unless she tries.
There’s so much she must do, before she dies.





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