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About A Girl
I watched him pull her hair back,
the ribbons were shades of gold,
It looked like she would shatter,
If he did her wrong.
His eyes burned, her ivory skin,
but her glass eyes looked more porcelain,
Leave me dying deep within,
Till someone says "Move Along"
And again I pass her window,
She seems to stare at me,
Through teary eyes I hear her cry,
You could care for me.
Action are really the loudest form of talking