She is a soul of fifteen sad and lonely,
Though time is to bloom in garden of euphoria!
Silence clouds on her, playful mind grow wise;
Sitting on green field gazing the blue sky
Fills her void world feed her mind with kind,
She bore this in her heart like cowboy do his flute!
Little only she speaks, female eyes speaks about her and
Those words senses easy of Wordsworth's notes.
Smile became blue moon, agony...