Not so long ago
Mountains arose, and her little
Blue Eyes watched as her world,
One she had learned to adore, was
Destroyed
Not so long ago, her small
hands found the page
And her feelings scattered
Chaos turned to art
As she wrote who she was
Metaphors and fancy words
scattered in her notebook
The praise, the attention
Others finally felt her effort
Not so long ago,
she was labeled a poet
Her future felt clear
The chaos felt no longer near
Its memory held in words
She saw art in her fear
This girl is now
Mature
Deemed responsible, an old soul
Her chaos follows her
They read her words and know her story
Know who she is
A new identity on paper
But she is not her words
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