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I was a little girl,
Who was different in my own way.
No one accepted my unique touch,
They never even tried to reach out,
Always repelling from my soft, kind grasp.
I tried explaining to them,
That what you see,
I can’t control.
It’s your heart that counts,
They wouldn’t listen to a word I say.
Every day, I look out in the stars,
With my hands on my heart,
That one day,
I will have a friend.
Article posted April 23, 2009 at 12:14 PM •
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