There is a child who sits and

There Is A Child
Who Sits And Broods
Over Her Inability To Age
Tingling With The Need
To Run Her Shaking Fingers
Over The Hands
Of The Boy Beside Her.
There Is A Child
Who Sits And Stares
Out The Window
Towards The Ocean
Because Dreaming Is The Method
She Must Use
To Save A Smile.
There Is A Child
Who Sits And Weeps
Over Innocence Forgotten
And Experience Neglected
With The Rising Tide
And Crashing Waves.
There Is A Child
Who Will Lay Down
Beneath A Shroud
To Be Abandoned
And No Mother Will Dare Mourn
In The Wake Of Her New Day.