She was the girl of everyone's dreams
With red hair slicked over her sweet
Perfectly freckled, rosy pink face
With brown pools of wonder for her eyes
That make you melt with only one glance
And with her pale, rounded lips
That releases music for the word to hear
Her hands, painted in a dragon-like green
Are her souls true disciple
With these hands she paints onto the canvas
A story caged deep within her troubled heart
Stories her lips yearn to even comprehend
Stories buried down and locked in a casket
A casket only unlocked by those hands
The ability to read these ravishing stories
Is the greatest gift any soul can receive
Because even though her outer shell
Is one of the most exquisite things you'll see
It's the angelic beauty of her glowing soul
That shines through and animates me
And maybe one day after she reads this
I can ask her to let me in on what she hides