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That little girl
eloquently intwined together ,
mixing like color-coded beads that swing back and forth tyed to the ends of the little girls eloquently braided hair .
in her mind she is a child ,
place in this world to make magnificant things happen.
she walks with a skip and not a doubt in her eralavent mind that nothing will untwin her from being intittled as a child.
until that day where those beads stopped hiting her child-like curved back
and didnt match the rhythm of her innocent suttle feet.
what happened to my little girl ?
and no breads remain .
the mind of and adult reflurbished in a wanna be known adult childs brain.
but this one question seeks to fill my head.
where did my little girl go ?
tearless tears fall from my eyes
sloaking into the unfurtle soil
that once we lyed
with our fingers intwin yours fitting perfectly into mine.
and while your fingers felt like silk to mine
i admired the cool feel of your hands in mine,
to dare see the child like features disappear from your eyes
so i lyed here in this filthy onced loved soil
crying tears of chills , and hearing night swears fill the compessed air
once upon a time that she was going to always remain my little girl
because at the end of every fairy tale
you'd think there be a moral to the story
of heart filled promises that conminced to never happen
so those sadity smiles at the end of the lied filled books
says to me ,
my little girl used to love these falsed hopeful over rated books
and i knew i sould of told her then that those stories ,
lie to fill the mind of a child that dwells on happy ends.
and if i did she wouldnt be standing here
asking herself ,
what happened to her little girl
she would know that the little girl is not her little girl anymore
she has growned and mutured
mutured so much that she is a duplication of an average adult
she would know that her child like fingers and her adult fingers will never retwin again .
she will never lie on the fithy gound again , as she did when she was a child
making the earth soil seem a little more alive
and so as she grows she forgets.
forgeting the feeling of her silk hands
the feel of her cool hands
the feeling of making the soil furtile again
so she lyes in this still unfirtle soil
wishing she knew what happened to her little girl that she wishes she could be again.
that she would trade anything to go back to being her.
that little girl that i once was .
and so i say ,
why cant i go back to being that little girl ?