Monday, October 25, 2010


Strolling through the woods, in the cool, pleasant breeze,
She reached for the apples, up on the trees,
She tried assiduously, from the morn' to the nigh',
But her legs were too small; the branches too high.

They were happy, she knew, for she watched them chat,
Alone in the corner, by her books, she sat,
Whenever their eyes met; she'd blush, he'd smile,
And then she'd be lost in her dreams for a while.

She sat on the bench, alone, by the creek,
Day after day, week after week,
Waiting for the day he'd notice she cared,
All the time hopeful, all the time scared.

Maybe he'd never see, maybe he knew,
Problems, she had many; friends, but a few,
In her crazy world she was lost, hoping for a guide,
On his shoulders she'd rest, in him she'd confide.

Like a free bird, in the springtime, once she flew,
What happened to her since, nobody knew,
She was being held back; to many a restraint, she was tied,
When asked what was wrong, "I'm fine", she lied.

She controlled her feelings, and hardly spake,
But spent countless nights in bed, awake,
She wouldn't eat anymore, she'd lost her appetite,
She tried to stay strong, "Dont let go, just fight."

But it was never enough, hard as she tried,
So she locked up her room, and endlessly cried,
Alone, she thought, stroking her hair,
Just maybe (perhaps), life isn't fair.

Walking by the sidewalk, as if under a spell,
Her foot missed a step, and acutely she fell,
She writhed in pain, a leg she broke,
She'd stumbled upon something, 'twas a tree- an oak.

Someone came over, and gave her a hand,
He helped her up, as she managed to stand,
She was about to thank him, and gave him a glance,
And at once, she knew- there's always a second chance.