January 22, 2009
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She is delicately built
And she can never quite relate;
Her skin made of a petal quilt,
And shoulders etched with stems of fate.

She speaks with a languid drawl
Even when conversation is done;
Her smile rings of waterfall,
Shows a slowly setting sun.

Graceful skirts clutched in her hand,
She can not her grief abate;
For she does not befit this land
And she can never quite relate.

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Kaity-Bear95 said...
Dec. 9, 2010 at 3:31 pm

I like it, very mystical and pretty.

Check out some of my stuff, please. I could really use some feedback :)

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