Note : Photo for this blog post is taken from the web.
Her hair is entangled and messy
Their shapes are curled in squares and circles
There are portraits and days where she looks as pretty as a daisy
But there are days of depression and she cries like a slave maid of the 80’s that has to work ill.
She wipes tears because she seems to tell her story to everyone
Does she not realize that this world is a chaos and she should not trust anyone?
For when she tells her story, they roll their eyes and tell her that they were done.
“So I should not mention about my weakness to anyone”, she laments and cries
She cried until the dawn breaks the dim moonlight of her bedroom window, until she noticed everyone lies.
She thought and she thought until the next night
And she came up with a plan that seemed very right
She drank a can of juice and recalled her plan
And her plan did not involve any friendship or a romance with a man.
“I need to stand up for myself. I am sure I am not alone. I just have to wait until I find people that think like me and will soon be my very own! I will do what I love till then!”, she squeaked; saying this to herself with delight
For sure she was right and in that darkness of her bedroom; she was the only beautiful moonlight.