Red string of hair is stuck to her forehead.
She crawls heavily from under the sea
Each and every morning I wear a mask of joy
this is the way I was taught,
always to be happy,
The snow is hurting me mama,
It feels like fragments of glass under my feet.
The wind is so
I look in the mirror, and what do I see?
A strange reflection is looking at me.
For me, you are like the rising sun,
the fresh beginning of the day.
You are the light, the