Her Smile
Dressed like ballerina, she is good at her art,
Her smile- just a curve and her heart torn apart.
She walks on a rope held high at two ends,
Circus is her living, pleasure she pretends.
Her mesmerising eyes sometimes hold tears,
She too wants friends and play without fears.
She holds beauty of rose worries are her thorns,
Her childhood is dead, so everyday she mourns.
Though life is not easy she tries to stay strong,
To ease her worries, she sings a happy song.
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