Watch the girl with the open book,
Watch her, as she yearns
And as she looks
For something more than just
Fairy tales in books.
Five-lined poems fill her thoughts
Surrounded by waves of dark, crowded space
And it’s sad because all she feels is empty
Yet the crowded thoughts keep their place.
But maybe her thoughts would be at peace
If she instead sat down and listened
To the people who say she is not the fold in the sheets
Instead, she is the open valley
The found missing piece
No more feverish writes
Or late-night sobbing
She keeps fighting for her life
Through her five-lined poems.