When I was young

I want to be that little girl,

Who though picking dandelions,

For my mother was the best bouquet,

She’d ever receive.

 

I want to be that little girl,

Who stared at those girls,

That I’m now one of,

Jaw dropped in awe.

 

I want to be that little girl,

Whose role model was still her mother,

And who thought the world was unlimited,

And possibilities endless.

 

I want to be that little girl,

When the only thing we were high on,

Was the happiness only a child could have,

And it felt better than anything else.

 

I want to be that little girl,

Where the only babies my friends had,

Were plastic dolls that could be forgotten at any time.

Unlike the living, breathing ones they can’t handle now.

 

I want to be that little girl,

Where love was the best kind of friendship,

Where depressed was a day without apple juice,

And happiness was as easily obtainable as an apple in an orchard.