In spring, she was pink.
But not any pink.
A light, soft, pastel pink.
A pink that would make anyone smile.
She was gorgeous.
She would wear eyeliner that made her eyes stand out.
Her eyes were a beautiful blue gray.
She sat under the cherry blossom tree, listening to her favorite band.
Nobody seemed to notice.
But I did.
The way she smiled as the music played.
She tapped her feet to the beat.
Suddenly a gust of wind came in.
The cherry blossom petals swirled around her.
It was beautiful.
She was beautiful.
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She
PoetryNora was beautiful. She had the most amazing smile. Everyone loved her. But not like I did...
