Cricket

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We all close our eyes, but hers are closed, permanently

We sing of colors, shapes, and sizes; she tries to understand

We are stunned by the array of lights; she doesn't get excited

We determine race in a split second; she'll grab anyone's hand

Mirrors won't serve justice, makeup will do no help

Maybe words of wisdom, or a crying scream - a yelp

She's serve to in a second, long situation or fast

We need to see catastrophe to stop. No blood - we'll pass

The outlandish food is simply abandoned, no second glance, just go

She'll grab it, and she'll try it. She found something new to love

The book needs to have a colorful cover, grab our attention, quick!

The Ugly Duckling has no meaning. She doesn't care if the bird is a dove

I'm walking past her now, the wind is in her hair

I have to dress up nice today to set an impression, but she won't care

In my mind I explain to her what I see, gray sky, a tree

Suddenly I stop, close my eyes, and strangely, now I can see

We're on a quest for color, fine print, arrays, mixes, beauty

We're amazed by grasping photos of rainbows, words, but it has fooled me

We've picked the prettiest colorful picture, this we have chosen

We are all blinded, but her eyes are forever open

 

(To Cricket, who I may never know, but will always remember)

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