She was born to believe in perfect timing,
And so she mastered the art of waiting.
She placed her hopes and dreams in written lines,
Finding solace in words, her own way of creating.
Unlike others who chase fleeting charms,
She found joy in quiet pages turning,
Wandering solo, humming her own songs,
Loving each step as her soul kept yearning.
Fearless in many, yet tender and wary
When it comes to giving her heart away.
Afraid no one will embrace her unique story,
That her kind of love has faded away.
Still, she holds faith in a happy ending,
In the story she’s patiently composing.
One day, all her pieces will find meaning—
Until then, she guards her heart, gently closing.
