She
Her bare feet move lightly
Over the soft green grass
She moves like an ethereal being
Casting spells as she skips
Her own little world
Consumes her
She chatters to imaginary friends
Argues with her foes
Little does she know
What awaits her
On the earth.
Oh little one
Stay innocent and pure
The green green grass beneath your
Dainty feet
Isn't as soft and clean
As you
The End
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THE GOODS
You're currently reading the poem
She, which
was posted on Oct 5, 2011 by
GeorgieGirl.
This is a solo poem.
About this poem
"I will be the first to admit that this isn't one of my best ones. What I'm actua..."
This poem is filed under:
Free Verse
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