An object of pure weight – crisp and clean,
She lands without a sound.
A rush of summer air sweeps her off her feet,
And once again the ground is bare.
Enjoying the intoxicating summer heat,
Spiralling gracefully through the air.
Clearly, she stands strong
 Against the pitiful rest,
Of Mother Nature’s creation.
An angle like figure
Swirling through the air
Enjoying the wondrous sensation.
suddenly, she awakes out of her fantasy and dreams,
And they disappear like a fires smoke.
Her miserable life falling apart at the seams.
Being the butt of every cruel joke.
She knows her life won’t suddenly mend,
And she knows there’s no-one there.
She knows she isn’t popular, and she has no friends,
But the other children don’t seem to care.
She stands up thin, pale and plain,
And walks with steady feet to the drop.
She knows she must stop this never-ending pain,
And she wishes her heart would stop.
Like a petal, she drops and falls,
Spiralling gracefully to the ground.
An object of pure white - crisp and clean,
She lands without a sound.”