This lady in the hallway,
she always summons this unfathomable sighs,
this stealthy frowns,
hidden beneath her icy crown. . .
Mystery. . .
She's so mysterious in ways that Even I cannot anticipate,
In a language that I can't communicate,
In motions where I was left frozen. . .
From boring grasses to Green leaves,
to Purple petals and now this. . .
Mystery. . .
Your mystery. . .
I dig your apathy. . .
Only to find out your mystery was all along my. . . .
Misery. . .
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