She sat unnoticed in the corner,
Strumming her guitar with quiet fervor.
Her name was called, and like a spark,
She ran toward us, youthful and stark.
Her hair, untamed, yet free with flair,
A boyish shirt and casual air.
Slimmed face, petite, with Asian eyes,
A modest flower beneath open skies.
Like a seed, her presence grew with time,
February passed, an ordinary...
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