Her warm young palms, fire in her eyes,
Glitters like the stars that dance in the night,
Her shallow breaths and hopeful sighs,
Her tear drops though evade their sight,

In her desires, her burning fire,
In her eyes like pearls,
All the questions she wants to inquire,
Somewhere, I see the reflection of a girl,

Who did the same, just like a flame,
One day she burst open raging in her glory,
In all her failures, faults and fame,
She saw poetry, another poem, another story,

A mirror image, a reflection, she no longer is,
She has learnt to love herself,
She is powerful, her very own source of bliss,
No need to prove herself with power or pelf,

In this little girl I see,
The reflection of a girl,
That is me,
Trapped in this world,
To be set free,
Out of this maze And into the sky,
Where her wings soar high,
Not to be bound by restricting land,
Like the fire in her eyes waiting to disband....