The child moves,
blindfolded,
stumbling through the trembling air,
Hands grazing the rough bark of trees, the cool breath of stone.
Laughter rises, thin as thread, spinning through the dark—
A thread they cannot follow,
only pull,
only pull,
Until the world dissolves,
and home is only a memory of warmth.

Bluebells caught in her tangled hair,
Buttercups dancing in the open air.
A daisy crown, a fragile ring,
Foxglove whispers where shadows sing.

A bouquet gripped, loose in her hands,
Dreaming of boys, of far-off lands.
She waits for their eyes, for their seed to sow,
Forever ripe, with a heart aglow.

Running naked where the wild horses roam,
Wings outstretched, the world her home.
She reaches for sunlight, it burns her skin,
Magic bursts where dreams begin.

Blown bubbles scatter, they fill the sky,
Childhood hopes, now asking why.
A father’s absence, poverty’s chains,
Creativity blooms through endless pains.

Children raised where the waves collide,
Her heart’s adrift on the restless tide.
Alone with thoughts that crush and swell,
A soul on fire, a story to tell.

Yet wildflowers grow where the earth is torn,
In the cracks of loss, new life is born.
She rises strong, though the storm may call,
A radiant spirit that conquers it all.

In the schoolyard sun,
The moon cast its spell,
A shadow on her eye
Where secrets swelled.
Her smile cut sharp,
Like a blade left cold,
Not for love, not for trust,
Not a story to be told.

The siren screamed,
Oh, how it wailed,
Inside her chest,
Where her strength had failed.
We walked right past,
We didn’t even see,
A girl in the dark
Where the light should be.

And the window cracked
On a midnight breeze,
Her truth came crashing
Like falling leaves.
We said, “Poor girl,”
But it was too late—
We traded her soul
For a twist of fate.

She spilled her trust,
Like blood on the floor,
And her mama turned away,
Couldn’t love her no more.
The cards reshuffled,
The lies changed hands,
And we just stood by
In a hollow land.

She was sinking, yeah,
In a silent tide,
We said, “Ain’t it strange,
How still waters lie.”
Her mind went dim,
A house turned to stone,
And we told ourselves
She’s fine alone.

Oh, but the moon rose high,
And her fire went black,
Ashes in the wind
That’ll never come back.
She burned down quiet,
No cries, no sound—
Just a shadow of a shadow,
Lost underground.