Words flying through her mind
Scattered, uncoordinated;
Not in a straight line
They all jumble together
To form her persona,
She's a being made with a vocabular aura
Her soul can be read like a scripture.
People go through her like a book
Some don't take care of her.
Others admire, others desire
Others simply need her to complete their set.
Some find beauty in her unique mindset.
Some judge by the cover
Others read and discover
Between the lines
Of her complex mind
Some like her; some don't
She's not a bestseller
Her author is God
Books with blank pages? They tell her
That really is odd
She smiles a small smile
At their shallow train of thought
Then continues her journey
*Built on the words they forgot.