Say, Little Girl

So, I was trying to write a poem for an English assignment, but this came out a bit personal, so I'm not sure if I'll actually use this one. It's just kinda about the ups and downs of my life till now

I once knew a girl, young and smiling,

Her eyes bright with that youthful light,

Her dress tattered from play,

And her hair in a fray,

And I said, "Say, little girl,

Why do you smile?"

She gave me a crooked grin and spread her arms wide,

And with much excitement she replied,

"Today I ran a whole mile!"

T'was at least a year till I saw her next,

Her eyes scarred by things she wished naught,

Her mind plagued by nightmarish thoughts,

And she clutched at her dress as she cried,

And I said, "Say, little girl,

Why do you cry?"

She shoved her face into a pillow,

And whispered soft as a willow,

"The world is big and scary and oh so full of lies!"

T'was some time till our next meeting,

Her nose buried deep in a book,

Her teeth gently biting her lips,

And she found refuge in the words,

And I said, "Say, little girl,

Why do you read?"

She looked up so her eyes met mine,

And she spoke with a small, quiet voice,

"The words let me off my dreadful lead."

T'was not long till I met her next,

Her eyes hard and bright,

Her hands in fists as she glared at the ceiling,

And she festered in her anger,

And I said, "Say, little girl,

Why do you scowl?"

She gritted and grinded her teeth,

And she clenched her fists tighter,

"They're making my life just plain foul!"

T'was not all too many weeks till we met again,

Her eyes distant and gleaming,

Her chair beside the bedroom window,

And she sighed as she dreampt,

And I said, "Say, little girl,

Why do you dream?"

She didn't even look my way as she spoke,

And her words were as distant as her eyes,

"My dreams remind me things aren't always as bad as they seem."

T'was many months before I next saw her,

Her back bent as she hunched over a desk,

Her hands aching more with every mark she made,

And she was happy for the first time in a while,

And I said, "Say, little girl,

Why do you draw?"

She didn't bother looking up,

And she spoke with the same determination with which she drew,

"I let myself dream, and I want people to see what I saw."

T'was a while before I saw her next,

Her lips pressed in a fake smile,

Her heart hurt by the praise she didn't get,

And she was defeated inside,

And I said, "Say little girl,

Why do you lie?"

She didn't meet my eyes,

And her voice was soft again,

"They'll only shout if I cry..."

T'was a bit till we next conversed,

Her eyes had a thoughtful glow,

Her pain wouldn't let itself show,

And her fingers moved quickly as she typed,

And I said, "Say, little girl,

Why do you write?"

She turned to face me with a tiny smile,

And her voice was a bit louder than before,

"I dreampt, and now I want to take flight."

T'was some time till we next met each other,

Her face framed a smile for the first time in a while,

Her eyes bright with her own light,

And her heart found remedy in what she had,

And I said, "Say, little girl,

Why do you see?"

She sat up tall in her chair,

And her voice was no longer quiet,

"I realized how blind I was, and wanted to be free."

T'was a year or two till we talked again,

Her face stained with tears,

Her heart shattered on the floor,

And she knelt in defeat,

And I said, "Say, little girl,

Why do you greive?"

She stared ahead with a broken gaze,

And her voice was deadly quiet,

"What was loved is lost, and I still beg for their reprieve."

T'was more than a year before we met the final time,

My heart somewhat mended by the many weeks,

My smile was true for the first time since things looked bleak,

And I could finally see without lens tinted rose nor jade,

And I looked in the mirror and said, "Say, little girl,

Where are going to go from here?"

Reviews

[Another brick in the wa..]

I really liked the ending! I was shocked about the fact that she was talking to herself in the mirror, loved it. It gave the poem some kind of a twist ending.

[Joeyyy]

Wow. I know nothing about poetry, so I don't know how good that was in a poet's terms.

What I can tell you is that I FELT that. Very moving. You are talented.

[Bee]

Oh, thank you so much! To be honest, I'm not really sure how good it would be in "poet's terms" either, I've learned all I know from what they teach you in public middle school and just reading other people's poetry, so you could hardly call me knowledgeable on it. But I do write from the heart, and I think that's what matters! I think if you really feel what you're writing, then other people will probably be more likely to as well, and it really make me so happy that you think I'm good. It really does. You know, I've actually been feeling pretty untalented, boring and overall just kind of average lately, and it's been getting me kinda down, because all my friends are really talented, like one of them sings really well and gets into fancy choirs and whatnot, on top of getting perfect grades, another one draws amazingly and also gets into fancy choirs, another one does sports and is also awesome at halo and also knows how to use a real gun and trowing knives, you get the idea. Basically, I've been feeling like the untalented tag-a-long and your little comment really just cheered me up, so thank you so much! You've really made my day. Also welcome to writer's cafe!