She was different
In a world full of selfies, she waited to be clicked
In a world that idolised bodies, she was beautiful on the inside
She had a beautiful body that she never complimented with her clothes, she choose baggy t shirts instead, for reasons known to her alone. Her hair rugged brown and tangled, rebellious like her soul. She was difficult to understand, unlike the people of her generation, open like a book. She choose to let the world go astray, hoping that somebody would find their way back to reality.
She was like art, you could not really make sense of her, but she made you feel something, you couldn’t explain.
She was the girl that kept the fire burning inside people who were losing their light.
She was the girl without make up, messing up her clothes on a rainy day on a football field.
She was a coffee person, with a book.
She would rather be at a lake than be at a movie.
In a world where everybody wanted to have a pretty face, what she wanted was a beautiful mind. She was the rebel who choose her own way, she knew she wouldn’t be loved very much for the way she was, shabby and wild, she made her choice anyway.
She knew that someday, somebody would look beyond the tangles of her messy hair.
Someday somebody would see a side of her no one has seen very often, someday somebody would see that she was the most beautiful when she tamed herself down for a privileged few to see.