By  adiya noyal 3

My face becomes stiff with a crescent of the moon

Which is so contagious as I dance to a happy tune

The sun heats up my smile on a crimson land

Flowers bloom on the palm of my hand

“Happy” is a word I will never be

“Satisfaction” is a person I will always see

That word makes life so deep and happy deep

These simple smiles are treasures that seeps

Through my golden veins, the hue of my happiness

I wore it proudly, an embroidery on my dress

I embroidered it on a brown and ugly stain

Without that stain, my dress would be plain

My face becomes stiff with a crescent of the moon

Which is so contagious as I dance to a happy tune

The sun heats up my smile on a crimson land

Flowers bloom on the palm of my hand

 

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