the girl


She was seeing dark
And hearing black
In a world of shadows
The girl was a dome.

She thought the best
Or hoped at least
In the crowd of people
The girl was a storm.

Days where numb
Along side the sun
The darkness turned blue
The lights were few.

“lovely” she said
Lovely and real
The light that arouse
Was bright indeed.

There came a day
One of those “unhappy ones”
She hated this
But could do no harm.

Clouds came in chariots
Rowing bolts of light
She was blinded by the sky
Nearsighted once again.

Heavy drops of rain
Came along with snow
After ruining the dome
There was no lovely
No real, no more.

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