I have an urban story as a child I'd listen to
About a kid with high hopes and dreams, more that her laugh
She'd sat down below that tree trunk cause she know not to climb
Then sing about the birds and the flowers in the sky
How sweet of a smile she has, it made a jolly clap
To those that have known her, since she knows who she's not
The kid would play pirates, sail in her ship of grass
Then the other kids would come running, wanting to play tag
She'd sat just there in her ship
with her hymns and that hazel eyes
That even though she don't see as crystals
she knew what beauties are
I wrote this as Ashyb. Another form of Tint.