battle of the windmill

That Girl Who Knows.

I’ve written this story before

I’ve written it a thousand times–

Maybe more;

The story of a girl

Who thought she knew

Everything that was

And all that’ll ever be.

Her mind would take off–

Reaching for her words

Searching for her destiny–

Soaring ever higher;

Carefully writing her prose,

Until one day she played with fire.

She’d live highs and lows

To fill her lines 

With imperfect harmony,

Risking it all

So her life would rhyme

In perfect prosody.

She had a destiny she needed to fulfill,

To share her battle with the world,

Life’s ideals, and many windmills.

With pen and paper in hand,

Often times she’d use a keyboard–

But her essence was true–

That much–

She knew.