She fists her right hand,
Ready to punch anyone if they attack,
While she snaps her fingers of her left hand,
As she walks, humming some song, trying not to dance in the middle of anywhere,
And slightly, silently hoping that no one is looking at her,
Or how crazy she might be looking,
Smiling to herself,
Doing the hand-wave thing at times,
Enjoying her walk, alone but with her thoughts.
She's fierce and she's fine,
She's fire and she's also ice.