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Oct 2019
There is an unwavering smile on her face,
painted with undertones of anger;
There is tenderness carried in her fingertips,
with an unmistakable violence brewing underneath;
Her face is etched with lines of blinding mirth,
and it it clear that she is unfamiliar with laughter;
She is a walking tragedy, miserable and dead,
meticulously dressed in robes of normalcy;
Turn too quickly, and dare to steal a glance at those eyes -
All you will know is shadow, no life left to see.
ame
Written by
ame  17/F/PH
(17/F/PH)   
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