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Zaara

Zaara, more beautiful than any child I have seen,

I wonder what you see at night when you dream your dreams.

Is it ponies, rainbows, fairies or butterflies,

Or is it a black storm approaching, coming across the skies?

I feel it coming in my bones

and sometimes I feel so alone,

but then I wipe my tears from my eye,

so that you never hurt seeing your mother cry. Continue reading