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Little Girl
The little girl stands lonely
A fine figure under a tree.
Picking at a leaf, she laments, she sorrows
And I'm guessing she doesn't see me.
I stand beside her; watching her
Tug at her shirt to keep snug.
Wiping at endless tears (I wonder why she bothers)
And I know that she really needs a hug.
As much as I want to draw her close
And wish all her troubles away,
I know that I'll just simply expose
Her future troubles ahead of the day.
A fine figure she is, and she, is me
Lamenting and sorrowing under that tree.
I know how I am but I come back again
Just to see how I bear with my pain.
Before I know it
I blink away rain
From my eyes as it pours from the sky,
I hear a cry and she moves from the tree.
She hops up and down
And spins all around
Gone already is her droopy stance
And immediately she begins to dance
Her arms outstretched, hugging the sky
Trying to catch the rain pouring down,
See, child? The rain mourns with you too, but why?
It cries so you don't have to frown.
Life will get much harder than this
But there's something for everyone too
And sooner or later you won't want to miss
All the glorious feelings after you're blue.
I watch her from under the tree, from far
Knowing how later she'd be
And I know all her dreams, what they are
Because that little girl would be me.
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Note: Written on my thirteenth birthday.