She was like winter rain;

The kind that doesn’t cause you any harm or pain.
Her hair of blond streaks led like rivers and streams down her back.

She was like a flower,
Able to grow in the most unimaginable places,
Yet never see her own beauty.

There is sadness in that,
Through all her hard work it was recognition that she lacked.

She worn peace on her heart like a badge;
And when she found herself under attack,
She’d take a step back.
She’d clench her fist,
Close her eyes,
Take a deep breath,
And soon realise that she was okay.

She was good like that,
Brave;
Able to make everything go her way.

Nothing ever seemed to bother her or cause her pain;
Because like I said;

She was like winter rain.