The Secret Inks a Honey Sweet

There was a little girl who loved to read Her teachers had to give her extra work She finished fast and went to ask for more. It seemed her brain kept flowering from seeds What only she could understand and know That from her mind and soul, another world and more, were formed into a thousand swirls born of precious questions when tomorrow arose alive and never died: answers, meanings, echoes, formulas, and senses blossoming petals along a trellis vines that grew from tendrils of forever. As sweet and delicate a way to think that from its secret honey grew her ink.

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