A story of a girl
Her eyes go through the world like a spot of light as everything is envy worthy. To see is to envy; therefore, I call her envy Ivy.
She is twenty.
Never sees what’s on her plate as if it was empty.
Her eyes always circle looking for the rich and fancy.
Ashamed of her humble beginnings, so she poses as a member of the gentry.
But everyone knows she isn’t as she talks a plenty like a naive girl from the country.
She tries her best to learn how to act, what to say, and who to kiss and marry.
Oh envy Ivy, there is no cure for your disease as envy crawled upon your heart like ivy does on the walls of the palaces that reject your entry.