She Voice.

Was there a girl that do not dream to be demure,

as an orchid that smells dainty,

as kind as a mother sings her child to bed.

If only she does not have to hide from the cunning world,

impersonate little thorns around her,

to reserve her softness to the only one that she could be her true self with.

iFeel.

I'd always feel grateful,

upon your generosity.

You'd never realize that how I will tend to

digest those little gestures

and translate them into a written form of love.

Thank you girl friend. You opened my eyes.