One little girl
Growing into a woman
But what does she want from life?
She goes to school
She makes many friends
And still she doesn’t know.
She has many tools at hand,
And her pencil her allay.
She picks one up,
With her paper at the ready.
She doesn’t know what to do
So her future is getting shady.
The pencil dances in her fingers,
Her brain in organized chaos.
One quiet voice seams to find its way.
“Just go, just go, don’t think, just go”
The quiet voice begins to say.
With no thought in her mind,
Her pencil begins to grind,
And her life starts to take off.
A line here, and a line there,
Some shading here, and pencil everywhere.
No masterpiece can compare,
To the life of one little girl
Growing into a woman
As her thoughts seam to clear the air.