A little girl all alone,
With no place to call home.
Her red shoes the only thing she owns,
Given to her by a grumpy old gnome.

I see it on their faces.
Something is not right.
A thinking look, fragile like lace,
A worrying sight.

All six of them look fine,
But I see behind those eyes.
They wonder what times left
Before one day he gulp dies….

Sometimes they’d joke,
With their nieces and nephews in the room.
And went they don’t, they sort of mope.
Face blank, mind thinking.
Worrying for the one they love the most.

The skies are grey,
My mind, now blank.
I cannot go another day,
Staring into this empty plank.

It shouldn't be dull and grey,
Cause it should be a colourful array!
For me to be proud of,
But now, I'd rather give it a shove.

But what happens when that fire inside you dies?
What happens then?
Do you have to keep telling them lies
And asking yourselves when?

Or maybe the fire hasn't died,
Dimmed is all. I thought it lied.
For a passion like this, don't disappear,
Maybe it's hiding itself under the pier.

But the fire inside you does die.
One day,
Someday.
And I'm afraid that day is near.