The stars we see aren’t scars on the sky,

The girl standing alone may not be shy.

The sun and moon aren’t of same size, 

Maybe she has much to tell, than just nice.

Her heart may be flowing but her eyelids are dry,

She is smiling, does she want to cry?

She must know where she is but she is lost

So much heat around turned her into frost.

Her hugely stuffed bag must be very heavy,

Her fist size heart may not be very happy

She is short in height,

Standing like a knight,

She is a lady, all right!

No bloodshed but she is covered with bruises

It seems more than beauty, than what she loses.


The white sky is, was, and will always be white,

Greys are mere clouds!

The white sky is just out of sight

But it is white, no doubt.