She raised her chin high and marched through the parade,
Without a fear or insecurity she ruled her own fait,
The street of Paris watched her with a curious eye,
The city had never seen such beauty and it asked itself why,
As the first attempt was taken to steal her heart,
She simply walked away and played the part,
Ice cool was that place underneath her skin and bone,
She was on a mission to uncover Paris, just her, alone,
They stared, they called out her name, she was nonchalant none the less,
The leaves beneath her stiletto heels were envious of her very´ness.
Later on she sat in a cafe, reading a book with only a dimmed light,
She smiled to herself, turned to the waiter and said for me Paris just feel so right.
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