Beside an Acacia tree


Little girl swings with glee
Higher, higher for eyes to see
Another place where she can be



Sitting on an old plank of wood


A shadowy figure stood
In front of the innocent one
"Silly swinging!", not to be done


Stole a little time to be a child


So sad to have an adult mind
No more dolls, no more tin drums
No laughing, no room for silly hums


Little girl cries at such sorrow


In her pillow, her face is burrowed
"I hate this life, I hate her"
Tells herself she can't go any further


Pots cleaned, floors to be mopped


A simple mistake equals a heavy slap
She touches her bruised cheeks
She is helpless and so weak


Beside an Acacia tree


Little girl swings with no glee
Higher, higher not to see
Another place where she can't be















Beside a maple tree


Woman swings with glee
An act which is silly
Higher, higher for her eyes to see
A place where she is now free





I glanced up the sky to count the clouds which look like rabbits, dinosaurs and dolphins and .............

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