I met a girl



many times.


Sitting, she swung on a swing

And smiled at the clouds 

she sang a song, the chorus



many times

for it was all she knew. 


Swinging, she kicked her legs

and sang her song 

reaching ever higher 

until she jumped out of her swing. 


Squealing, she reached for the clouds 

and when she hadn't caught them 

fell towards the ground

and when she landed paint flew from her shoes. 


It it colored everything except for her 

oblivious she seemed to the colors she had spread 

and back to the swing she went 

to try to reach the clouds again



many times 

She turned back to her swing. 


Everytime I met the girl 

she had grown 

but still swung on the swing 

and sang her song louder 

and reached higher to the clouds 



many times. 


Her colors changed 

as her songs changed

but her shoes painted the world still

reaching for the clouds 

getting ever closer



many times.


the last day I saw her 

she sang an entire song

and when she leaped for the clouds

the clouds reached down and grasped her arms

and pulled her away

from her feet, her shoes fell

and when they landed 

no color flew from them. 


As I watched her fly away

She never looked back 

to the colors she had left. 


Once she could no longer be seen 

I sat in the swing. 



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