The little girl sat in her swing

blond curls the way they are before

you grow up the everywhere I don't care

it looks like my hair was woven from sunlight

a throne for a flower crown.

Sat down drew

on a piece of paper

the land

we knew.

Sat down drew

lines between

us

----

them

it's a squiggle here

decided,

the river's clear

ly a bound

Even if was never

About legacy

Your memory

Cannot mean nothing

Your family

Should remember you

And admittedly

No matter what we say

This

Is true.

So who

Will speak