She smiles and laughs loudly,

and hopes she is judged not,

she talks of the clouds and mountains,

and is often shrugged off.

She dreams of poetry

and plays on her words,

and feels like she is the wind.

And she knows they think she is frivolous,

she knows they judge and condemn her.

But she still goes on,

of freedom is her quest,

and of love is her dream.

She knows she will not be seen,

in this sea of endless crowd,

she wishes for a smile returned,

but there won’t be,

She has no doubt.


3 thoughts on “Her

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