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A girl who's name starts with M.
I write, try to at least. I amuse myself that is. Find myself very entertaining. Best writer ever, as long as I read nothing else. My mind has rooted itself in a random grouping of words I call poetry, life, and musings. Probably should have put life last. Oh well, a stream is a stream. I have, only, a distant feel of the dramatic.
In any case, I write here not for myself. I write because someone I know, a girl who's name starts with M, has decided to try and write for a living. So, all watch out. This girl doesn't come out and speak her thoughts to often in daily life but her mind and heart are powerful, her words beautiful. The strongest whisper, because too much and too loud is too hard to handle. After all, beauty hurts, words can, just like life in all it's splendor, can and sometimes does hurt too much. The girl who's name starts with M has a well that is deeper than most that I have seen. She doesn't tell anyone, keeps it a secret, but jumps into it often-and then saves herself.
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