Little Girl

I am

Yes that’s me

I am the little girl

That can make things grow

One day

I ran far from home...

To an open field

This field as bare as my grandpa head

I ran through

And cried

And cried

And cried

I cried for hours

Maybe even days

I ran away later

I ran back later that day

And if

There was not a single spot

That was bare

It would not have been right

It grew flowers

Trees

Trees with flowers

Berries

Bushes

It was beautiful

It was breathtaking

I walked in a little

And stopped at a willow tree

A willow tree

This one was large...

With soft pink flowers

I fell onto my back

I looked up

And flower after flower fell onto me

I cried

I cried

I cried

I told no one

I showed no one

This was mine

I cried and made this

I made this

I made this

I cried this out

This place is mine

I’m the little girl that ran and cried here

To make this wonderful place

I’m the little girl

I’m the little girl

That lives in the willow tree

This poem is about: 
Me

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