How conceited
Is her blazing mind
When she walks
She walks like a proud lady
Puffed up by the air of bitterness
Of feeling
Of enthusiasm
Of intensity
Hits out where one lives
Burns life and gathers dusts on things
So passionately conceived over time
Entailing the oblivion of senses
And if called for entreat
Pardon for words of offences
Though not unkind enough to favor
Sometimes retrieving some lost names
Forgotten for a quite long time
Anger
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