Another Ordinary Girl...

 She was just another ordinary girl

Busy scribbling random words

Lost in her own dream world,

Full of imaginations, full of colours...

Rainbows, that melted into butterflies and birds,

Sunshine, that drizzled like dewdrops

Stars, that bloomed like wild flowers.


Her fingers, stained with ink

Her room echoing with poetry

Her little world was that old diary

That knew all her secrets.

She was just another ordinary girl

Busy celebrating life, as it came...

Day by day....moment by moment...

Engraving each smile and each tear,

Each love and each broken dream

Into blank pages,

And turning them into forever....


She wasn't a writer,

Secretly weaving magic with metaphors and epithets

That infused life into fantasies

That turned reality into fairytales

That turned imaginations into pictures.

She wasn't a poetess, either,

Creating ballads out of monotony

Creating poetry that echoes across mountains and valleys,

Or, the ones that could call out to the rain clouds and the winds.

She was just another ordinary girl

In Love, with her own little world.

Unread.

Unnoticed.

Unfathomed.

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