On a day of bright and blue, stood a girl not more than two.
The girl was poor, and you could tell that she was living a life so unwell.
Those who saw her just would stare.
Though, I believe they were all scared.
Her hair, so tangled, it'd eat a monkey whole,
yet she was really kind at soul
She wanted toys and friends to share, she always wished to have nice hair.
If only they knew her mournful pain.
They all just assumed she was insane.
She blocked my light and so I knew, if anything she was quite the view.
When our eyes met she quickly blushed,
her face like cherries, completely flushed.
She begged for money and we chatted everyday,
though I never noticed as she wasted away.
It didn't happen right on stage, it happened later in mid-age.
Though if she lives on then we would be
a very happy family.
Her laugh would resound my very soul.
Her tears, her smile, really took a toll.
When I follow her she'd be so proud,
though I choose to wait until I'm allowed
to hold her,
hug her,
take her in.
Warm her,
and touch her tender skin.
All it takes is patience and proof she should live on,
after all, from the time we met I could tell she was so strong.
No longer would she be the stray outcast,
her ***** hands and hair in the past,
I would change everything,
but only *if it last