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She clipped her wings.
And stood on them.
She walked odd;
With her deformity.
 
She sneered at anyone who pointed.
She was being who, she was told.
Their faces unclear, the them;
Who caused her plight.
 
But as the discomfort grew;
She looked deep within;
The wings made sense.
She had nothing to lose.
The pain, too strong.
The yearning unbearable.
 
As she fitted them back on;
Her beautiful wings…
She felt oddly shy and embarrassed.
But within her;
She felt the click.
She was whole and healed.

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