there once was a girl who sat upon a swing;
this girl was broken, all she could do was sing.
she sang a song filled with sorrow, hopelessness, and pain.
she sang so beautifully, the stars called out her name.
her singing was perpetual, just as a star shines.
if you sit on a swing, you can still hear echoes of melancholic chimes.
her death was tragic, that of a star;
she fell from her swing and was left with thousands of scars.
the pain was enough to rip her apart,
so the broken girl took her last depart.
along with her, she took the stars from the sky;
and created the moon as her final good-bye.
Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 1:58 PM UTC
there once was a girl who sat upon a swing;
this girl was broken, all she could do was sing.
she sang a song filled with sorrow, hopelessness, and pain.
she sang so beautifully, the stars called out her name.
her singing was perpetual, just as a star shines.
if you sit on a swing, you can still hear echoes of melancholic chimes.
her death was tragic, that of a star;
she fell from her swing and was left with thousands of scars.
the pain was enough to rip her apart,
so the broken girl took her last depart.
along with her, she took the stars from the sky;
and created the moon as her final good-bye.
Request permission to use this poem