The end off May.
Slipped, softly, a sunshine into our lives.
An elf, well fit in the palm of a hand.
Tenderness under the hot glass,
Were she was Admired.
A child full of joy, which had a tendency to artist.
Lot of time alone, soulful works of art brougth forth,
Though the cry of loneliness heard no soul.
Loneliness in Love.
Ther`s the child, now a young woman,
With many blessings in her life.
Her soul is often wounded,
Still a silent scream in the heart.
Brave, her life journey.
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