Feet that are hardened from the many miles walked,
a dress so worn that it looks like a limp rag.
Hands with calluses from long hard days of work,
eyes that have seen things that no one ever should.
Hair that has never been cut,
a face worn beyond years.
She is a girl, lonely and afraid.
She gazes towards the mountains and beyond,
as she whispers a word that has never passed her lips:

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