(actually, this was written the summer I was eleven, but close enough. In couplets, yet!).


A sweet remnant of yesterday,
Will her troubles ever go away?
Laughter, hope, friendship and fears
these are the things kept through the years
Life for her was not fair,
it tore at her heart and greyed her hair.
Still she grew more loving and mild,
she is a woman now, but still a child