weird poem about a dying dancer.

She held the sun in her hair
while she danced on the grass.
It was her final day.
A small bird 
waiting to fall from the past.
The sunlight dancer,
the graceful girl.
She left her heart in the dirt
and hid her brain from the world.
She danced on roses
and sighed in her head
she ran on the thorns
and on them she bled.
The final hour,
she desperately feared
The lovely girl
soon disappeared.

The End

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