Once upon a time there was an introvert girl who thought to begin her path leading to a journal of time, it reveals beauty within verses of fine rhyme- it shields her pain when she desires her lost love, and releases her sorrow like an ivory turtle dove. her quill meets her parchment and it lingers, creating beauty with her right hand fingers- no keyboard is what she longed to use, when writing with passion, following her muse. old fashioned writing was just her lovely style, for she knew not of contemporary saved files- she knew she desired to express with a pen, and she used a colored pencil every now and then. she was just seven when she began to journal, and she knew from then on writing would be eternal- her hobby became her passion in her youth, as she quills on parchment...all these verses of truth.
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