Her tears were like early dawn,
Seen by none.
She would let out in alone,
And be drowned in what’s gone.
Her smiles were like moon,
Hide her darkness.
For her scars they would be a boon,
But still everything would be strewn.
Her words were like rain,
So fresh and soothing.
But nobody could see the hidden pain,
And she became word-stained.
Her dreams were like blue sky,
So bright and big.
But something in her would cry,
And tell her, they are too high.
-Nikita Raj Purohit
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