Crying through the night,
she sits there,
silently gets up,
starts walking toward the sunrise.
Deep in thought,
motionless and solemn,
thinks about every move,
made by the people in the dark alley.
She's waiting fro something to come to her,
the coolest breeze from the summer's trees,
or the slightest idea of someone,
anyone coming to love her for who she is.
I am that girl,
the solemn girl who sits there,
just waiting for someone to love me for who I am,
and not what I looks like.
Someone come to me,
I bawl as I think about the words I said in the past,
someone comes up behind my back,
I turn around and hug him so tight,
the one who loves me for my true colors.


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what page??im confused about what your talking about.
Isabella Marie Culle...12:23 PM EST