Dear little girl
With your glasses and braces
Thick mahogany hair,
And maturity in loose traces,
The world was thrust upon slim shoulders
Rivers of darkness flowed into your heart,
A treasure so vast your frame couldn’t hold her.

Monsters gnawed at the bones of your faith
For so long you dared not ask the mirror
If it should speak of a corpse or a wraith
You’d give anything to be anywhere but there
And wrote poems of mental wear and tear
But if I can halt your spry pencil, dear,
I’d like to sing sweet music to your ears.

Dear little girl,
You’ll make friends with twenty-five
There will burst orange rays of light
Under which you’ll learn to thrive

Gently, sweet child,
For...