She wore her scars like wings,
As she flew across skies clouded with stereotypes.
Amidst hazy questions the society posed,
Her eyes never lost the dreams she had.
But her smile was the best thing about her;
Smiling was how she burnt down hell,
When the world became one.
She could have chosen to walk away,
When neighbours questioned her choices everyday.
But she chose to answer,
Just as gracefully as she brushed her hair aside;
It was how she conquered the world,
With a fire for a soul and a twinkle in her eyes.
She was fragile,
A delicate petal.
But it was beautiful how she found strength,
Every time the winds blew hard.
For she weathered storms,
And stood her ground;
While blooming into a rose,
Holding on to thorns.