She always ran through the forest
Ran like the wind through the trees
Listening to birds' eerie chorus
She fell several times and scraped her knees
But she always ran now, never walked
She was not afraid of the dark and didn't shudder
When she heard tales of Frankenstein
A quiet child who seldom talked
A quiet child whose head screamed with colors
She had the power of the fearless youth
Something her stepsister didn't have
Something she didn't know she'd lose
One day when she met the world's wrath
For she was still too young to understand
Why her mama hit her stepsister
Young so she wasn't afraid of the dark and ran
And believed she had unicorn dust and glitter
For children are still not afraid
For children still don't know
That the world was filled with blades
Some to fling and some to throw
At others or at their owner's chest
That the world was cruel and heartless
And there was more about money than treasure chests
She loved her stepsister like a sister
And she did not understand
Why her mama hit her stepsister
But one day she'd understand
One day
When she met the world.
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Poetry[ poetry/short stories/collection ] ❝ you made the truth into what I lied, and I lied that I was beautiful ❞ . . . a collection of rainbows, theories, and dreams, of words faded around the edges with meanings that nothing could ever fade. a...
