Rori counted all the boxes lying just down below the stairs She counted with her young, thin fingers, that seemingly could break from the slightest weight But as you could tell from all the oranges sitting safe inside those boxes of projected ghostly leaves and branches They weren't going anywhere
And Rori wiped some sweat from her forehead Her crucifix danced with her movements She reached into a sea of bottled water and helped herself to some The queen upon a throne of wheat bread and powdered milk Crackers and the usual canned goods As a line of people formed before her, there was no more time to **** Just near the truckload of backpacks of all colors of the rainbow
Rori knew, without a doubt, that this was gonna be the year She'd go out searching in the mountains, through every crevice for the light snow that fell upon this city In December of 2007 she was 8 years old that day But Rori knew, without a doubt, that this was gonna be the year That it would be back to stay