Alone in the forest, not a bird or a bee,
Crowded by weeds and the overhang tree,
She sits on a swing made of old wood and vines,
Swinging backwards and forwards, she never smiles.
...
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Absoulotly beautful not what I expected at all great write :)
Good flow to this one, a tale of a fallen angel, well done. 10 Lynda xx