The Little Girl

The little girl

Learned how to dance,

That summer,

Spinning and twirling

Into worlds unchartered.

 

That little girl,

Evolved into

Something much more

That summer

As her heart began to thump

Like a grown up

And she knew

What it meant to love.

 

That little girl,

So young

And exploring

Venturing into all

The realms unknown.

Trusting

With blind faith

And love.

 

But, times grow tough

And we are all starving

And Sick.

 

That little girl,

Whose heart once thumped

With pleasure

And a heart swell

Of emotion

Sits out in the rain

Tears steady fall

And the pieces of her

Broken heart

Lie shattered

In the mud.

 

The little girl,

Grew dark

And daring

And really twisted.

As she fell

Further and further

From the summer…

Living in the cold

And wintry

Months
Of the living dead.

The rains keep falling.

And she fears

The sun can never shine.

 

That little girl,

Still lives

Somewhere

Deep, deep inside.

And she wonders

When the music

Turned black.

And she wonders

If

She still knows

How to dance…

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About elizaplayer

I am a rock and roll wild child, who spent too many years living the party lifestyle before the winds and rains of Hurricane Katrina began to wash away all the madness, nearly drowning me in the flood waters. I stayed behind in New Orleans for thirteen dark days, floundering around with the pains of addiction and withdrawal. Five years later, I managed to come out clean on the other side, and now it is time to get back to my roots. I am a writer. I have always been a writer. This is the story of a writer, struggling to make it in the real world. I studied Mass Media Communication with a minor in Journalism. I write anything and everything. This is a sample of my work, and a slice of my mind.
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3 Responses to The Little Girl

  1. Christina R says:

    Beautiful piece of work

  2. Lisa says:

    Very nice…touching

  3. Kathy says:

    Pain and hope

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