The rich sophisticated girl with the Indian juice, would blow your mind. She was underatedly one of a kind. For everything around her beamed in her beauty and where she was from, seemed like a galaxy of untouched divine gloriousness. It was a mess to think ill of her. The glory of her beauty was blinding. Mr. Willow claimed himself the bravest and not too many disagreed. He had been sent to war and praises of his distinguished actions on the battlefield was taken with great admiration. Everybody heard of his prowess and women looked at his pictures the way you'd look at a cute couple making out. So he was important and desired as well. And it's only fair if the best delight in the best and together, not necessarily. If kisses would lie then I'd bite my tongue because I've tasted her truth. Money talks and everyone was trying to befriend everyone who was a friend to Mr. Willow. But you don't have to listen every time money talks. It speaks big talk and little action. It thinks it needs to be desired so it pushes everyone lower to seem better. It's scared so it runs and escapes hardships like it escapes our pockets and wallets. So as we rise up I say a prayer. We are imperfect, all of us; that's why marriages like these seem to be made in heaven. Another fire. I admire the love that embraces their flaws and works relentlessly to better themselves and their lives. Mr. Willow obviously "won" the heart of the rich sophisticated girl with the Indian juice. But weak-minded men can't seem to possess things of value for a long time. Yet you don't hold things for a long time that make you feel smaller than who you exist to be. You let them go and so he said, "Goodbye, my love." - To the rich sophisticated girl with the Indian juice.
She doesn't look Indian though, Nice piece
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