I am just a little black girl with a passion for writing
Is it that I was scared Is it that I was feared Did I still have a heart Or it already became a piece of art ...
You thread, you sew The way you move your little toes Striking, swinging on the go, Almost as if you were using a bow ...
All this fronds, slit down its axis The fallen trees, the bet grasses The white birds on them They are all I see ...
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3/12/2026 6:06:28 PM # 1.0.0