(the city had fought the fortnight before)
fire burned through the little skirts
and plastic lunch boxes
carrying the nourishment of our future
doctors and worldshakers—

                                 Future
tax paying Americans
And beacon of the nation.

Wide awake, in the thoughts of a light bulb,
(Where sidewalk stairs politic with the devil,)
A raindrop fell and whispered to the asphalt,
“Tell me what you know about happiness…”
And somewhere, in the middle of a pineapple parade,
A Pepsi can smiled and danced the night away with Nyquil labels.

Have you seen her?
That raincloud girl?
Who’s father beat like thunder
With words that cut like lightning
Who’s sunshine mother warmed all
But never stopped the storm from coming.

Have you seen her?
That handmedown girl?
Passed from one family to another
With constant conflicting opinions
And a borrowed sense of conviction
That never quite fit her right.

Have you seen her?
That sad little girl?
Who grew up believing in faerie-tales
With faith in every misspoken sentence
Who waits on every text message
Despite the repeating heartbreaking goodbyes.

Have you seen her?
That copycat girl?
Who somehow never changes
With her fragile coat of innocence
Who looks like me in mirrors
But she will never be again.