–Vishakha Pakhale
The girl with the curly hair,
Always wonder about her shy flair
The dreams in her eyes are too much to glare
Little did she know how much she cared
Back then she didn’t have the desire to dare
She didn’t want the salty eyes of people to stare
Being the center of attention was a middling affair,
When she got out of the chaos and made people aware
Suddenly all eyes on her begin to care,
She feels like an open butterfly who can roam everywhere
With wings wide open and worries others to bear,
She finds solace in hectic, dizzy, and bizarre square
Though she didn’t make many bonds, the ones she did were quite rare
All the emotions came out in the prefaced blare
In the process of embracing her inner strength,
She grew bold and fierce, a combination rare
Her energy alone made people scared,
If she became fragile, they’d look down, unaware,
But the strength she brought up beyond compare
She might look rude to others, which is unfair
It took courage to climb those strong stairs from nowhere,
She met many halfwit chumps with dead-brained lairs
Who needed to be kept on welfare,
Despite all the circumstances, she grew secure and flair
Her beauty grew when she was in her hot debonair,
Even eyes were on her from everywhere
Leaving guys blushing and their composure laid bare.
She’s not a door-to-door, regular Clare
Nor she’ll drop you any favor. Be prepare!
Seeing her all the view turned into blurry fair
Which even made strangers whisper who dared,
She’s still in search of emotions rare
Will she ever find love in the air?
Yours, the girl with the curly hair.
Vish blogs 