I miss your graceful prance,
how you held your head up high.
And the way you used to dance,
under the gray and stormy sky.
When we swung across that rope,
you made me a king.
You built castles out of hope,
and made the birds sing.
Now as I stare into this churning stream,
my only thought is you.
Our kingdom's like a fading dream,
but in my heart - I know it’s true.
May 22, 2025
May 22, 2025 at 3:23 PM UTC
I miss your graceful prance,
how you held your head up high.
And the way you used to dance,
under the gray and stormy sky.
When we swung across that rope,
you made me a king.
You built castles out of hope,
and made the birds sing.
Now as I stare into this churning stream,
my only thought is you.
Our kingdom's like a fading dream,
but in my heart - I know it’s true.
I was obsessed with "Bridge to Terabithia" in middle and elementary school. Here is an old poem I wrote about it.