She’s a beautiful storm,
Trapped inside human skin,
And if you look close enough,
You can see her storm raging within.
Her eyes are a stormy grey,
And her words like raindrops hit,
But just because she is a wild storm,
Doesn’t mean she is perfect.
She hasn’t learned to control her lighting,
Or time her thunder just right,
So don’t leave this beautiful storm,
Just because she has power to fight.
She has gotten so used to trapping it all within,
That she has all but forgotten,
This was never her real skin.
She once stretched high above,
With dark and light power,
In the majestic form,
Of a thunderstorm and rain shower.
But somehow she was confined,
To trap it in all inside her freckled skin,
And let everyone tell her,
That releasing it was forbidden.
You were born to be a wild power,
So why be anything else but,
A storm, a thunder clap, a lightning bolt, and a rain shower>