Not the girl to whom every poet wrote a love poem for.
No Kahlil Gibran to write her a prose with beautiful words.
She is not the girl whom the love letter was sent to.
Nor the owner of the name who was written in it.
She wasn't the inspiration of any great stories.
And no one fought on behalf of her name.
She is not a hero.
No street or bridge used her name.
She's no one famous.
Not a cover girl, or any video-sensation.
She's not an idol.
No one screams her name in hysteria.
She did nothing special.
She never invent anything.
She never travel anywhere.
She's not royalty.
No crown made for her.
She sleeps inside a womb.
While her mother think of a name.
One day she might become someone. Any one from above.
But she may have to wait...for couples of month.
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