Little girl swinging from the brown chestnut tree
Legs hooked over a sun-baked branch
Locks of hair dangling toward the ground
Her skirt floats beside her shoulders
Fingers reaching for the grass beneath her
Giggles like drops of rain swimming down
Little girl swinging from the brown chestnut tree

Clouds of a color often pass her by
Birds of a feather often flock nearby
Time flies swiftly like the stretching shade
Words cut patterns with a long, sharp blade

Little girl running through the swinging porch door
Jaded glass from a beer bottle shatters when it hits
Shards lay like forsaken jewels of hate twisted into pain
The voice of a drunken man threatens to pursue
As she slips silently through the dampening night
Heartbeats pounding like the wings of a frightened hummingbird
Little girl running through the darkening dusk

Clouds of a color often pass her by
Birds of a feather often flock nearby
Time flies swiftly like the stretching shade
Words cut patterns with a long, sharp blade

Little girl staring down a long, bleak hallway
Judges making circles as they pass her
No one wants to touch
Whispering her secrets behind closed closet doors
Whispers of the bruises running down her arms
Cascading downward like the jaded shards of glass when they hit
Little girl holding in the tears of her life

Clouds of a color often pass her by
Birds of a feather often flock nearby
Don’t let her in, only keep her away
With words that cut patters with a long, sharp blade

Little girl swinging from the brown chestnut tree
Pale arms dangling down down down to her thighs
Cold toes brush the tips of softened, easy grass
The rope slithers around her shattered neck and bites the tree
It’s poison slips downward and sways her into the breeze of time
In the never-ending rhythm of her painful bruises
Little girl swinging from the brown chestnut tree