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.
Nice 👍🏿
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