Individuality: The Beauty and Tragedy

We all appear the same
And act as not
Often you look closely at figures
Such as figure skaters so graceful on the ice
Her hair was the colour of the sun with sweat dripping down her     face
It reminded me of the condensation from ice cubes in a cool
Lemonade
On a hot summer day
Her eyes were dark
A fresh storm breaking the horizon in some far away
Land
Let loose and feel free
She danced
While tears stained her dress
The pure white of her lies
Tearing her heart
The pure red of her love
She danced for her life
In a world that knew better
She was innocent and pure
And her silver tongue fell in suit
It lied for her when she could not find the words to explain why     she tortured herself
For she knew no better than to compare figures
In a world where we are all the same
But not






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