The Girl With the Red Hair

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The girl with the red hair
Perhaps to the world
(Especially to those who stare)
It may look like she does not have a care
As they envy her seemingly
Almost careless approach
To the way she walks up the stairs

The girl with the red hair
And her pale, freckled face
Unascertained to others
Has been keeping quiet
About all her private affairs
And she may seem to the world
As though her mind has got much too much time
To simply just spare
For she seems much too jolly in a place
Where death is a constant reoccurrence
Within such a small space

The girl with the red hair
However,
Has got much too much to hide
Beneath that smile of hers
Teeth oh so pearly white
Underneath her distraction of colour
The one she chose to be of
The flaming fires of the sparks that had danced
In the midst of the night sky
Oh, they do not know how much of heaviness
Which holds and grips her heart
As she tries to cover up a stumble
With her feet going faster
    And faster
And faster
    Up
   Up
Up
Up those dreadful stairs
When she thought no one was finally giving her
Such awfully strange, unwanted stares
She flies up the last flight
Ignoring her panting
And beads of sweat forming
Legs desperate to catch up with the ticking of time
In order to at least say goodbye
For she is fearful;
Fearful of hearing
The absence of his heartbeat
Fearful of seeing
The absence of his smile
Fearful of meeting
The absence of his dark blue eyes
Which always seemed to stare
In a way where there was fondness
Written all over
In his occasional shyness
When he is caught stealing a glance
In the mirror of regret
As they drive along the highway
The one which caused such pain
As well as such despair

But to the girl with the red hair
That will be her destined doom
The one in which she will forever have to bear
For as she stumbles into the room
Knees finally buckling
As she studies the stricken faces
Of the ones standing by the sheets
She will only be greeted by his silence
As though he was never even there

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