The little girl without a name
is so fragile, is so tame
care no two hoots about whatever fame
treats her little life as though its a game.
She spells her sorrows in dark blue ink
on pieces of scrap paper, her favourite pink
eyes glazed with tears, teethering on the brink
her little heart, further it sink.
Pens laid down, further she thinks
how much more, can this life bring?
fairies dont exist, neither do kings
there is no soil hiding any ruby rings.
Why are such things bringing her down
life is mocking her like a playful clown
she gazed upon the stars in their silver gowns
a handful of earth, the muddy brown.
She was reminded of the others' smiles
purely of innocence, rid of viles
how these smiles travel a thousand miles
how its a vital chemical equivalent to bile.
Upon which she was enlightened
how easily her life others could brighten
it can be said that she's a simpleton
or rather, she could readily gain contentment.
You see, this girl is not without a name
she is not like others, not the same
one day she'll grow to be a fine young dame
her smile shining in others' frames.
Eileen loo yi zhen.
*****
I just wrote a poem, i have many things to blog about, but they are not important.
Hey, please be happy.Labels: the girl with no name