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Melancholy ChildMelancholy ChildMelancholy Child
I came, quietly into this world. Lights were dimmed and voices hushed. They say I didn’t make a sound, I just looked-blinking at the light.
I turned five that late August when the world was also moving past its innocence. I was still slightly busy looking for magic.
I would find it in the most mundane places-in a leaf floating in our pond, or the “wish-flowers” I would pull from the ground and blow off into the air.
Looking up towards the sky, well nearly as high, was the counter of the bank- I could not see past it. A hand with a pretty ring would hand me a loll
by ~MissPresley
Eyeby ~MissPresley
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Cindy
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