The wind blows as a gentle breeze,
Her hair being tousled around her almond face.
Tears start to slowly form
And move down her rosey cheeks.
The breeze takes her weeping cries
Carrying them through the empty rose fields.
No one can hear her
No one knows of her pain.
She is strong, a fighter.
It is only when she is alone
Alone with the wind does she cry.
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