She’s On Fire

Her hair burns ‘cause she’s on fire,
but she’s okay with that.
She was never the type to sit and complain,
nor let herself fall flat.
Bruised and beaten, bent and broken,
smiling through and through.
sparsely eaten, so soft spoken
warm and pleasant too.
Nothing ever broke her spirit,
“Let me burn in flames!”
And then she rose from molten ashes,
smiling all the same.


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