Emotions pickled.

She feels like a bird ready to fly,
Low or high, only fly.
She feels like a baby, innocent and sweet,
Emotions whatever, ready to weep.

She smiles, she beams,
Not sure why.
Or maybe she knows the reason,
Owning up makes her shy.

A thousand emotions at once,
She is thankful they exist.
Emotional tussles, salad of puns,
They envelope her all, cannot resist.

Fear, love, anger, joy,
Trust, attachment, sadness, surprise.
Emotions pickled that make expression comfortable,
Lest life bland, a difficult to understand PREMISE.

– Stuti

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