The feeling of eyes slithering against a fragile soul, set feet upon a podium sprouting life to knees that fell weak to pride.
The blinding sun won't deny the light which beamed from her smile. Her voice tamed by aggressive minds loose it's cool and shattered glasses nearby.
Stunned by the vibe her aura supply, she feeds her people with self love and lessons with a goal of growing minds.
Her attitude diffused in style, her passion soaked in sweat, determination raised her head above clouds capturing stars in sight.
Clinging to hope, offering a leg and arm to accomplish those goals. An applaud on that of the forte side; a transition from the trying past to the present, welcomed by a congratulation sign.
Heart beats on the track sprinting for gold, a proud moment just got sold.
Polishing her crown to be placed upon a masterpiece of art.
Let me flip the she with a I and say, " I am that girl and front row is my style!".