Haphazardly lost in the soft twirl of this music box
She keeps on fighting, as if there's not enough
time. Each single chime down to the ballerina socks.
Yet graceful still, outstretched arms, palms crafted open
...
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this poem is amazing. i'll never look at a jewellery box the same again. i love the last two lines. they're so typical of someone who is growing up and out of old trends. don't ever stop writing.