Inside The Horrible Mind Of Morgan.

My Inner a Child Smiles At You

Drip.. drip.. drip..

Silenced I sit and listen

the afternoon sun is weak

and I feel cold yet warm

drip.. drip.. drip..

My mind wonders far off

while I crush autumn leaves between my fingers

I remember summers spent in tree house fairytales

afternoons of cloud watching and bird catching

of teddy bear students and frog choirs at night

dreams of fairies and pink bubblegum

my hair entangled with flower halos and grass

drip.. drip.. drip..

its cold now, the sun is gone

the child is gone

I blow on the pieces of leaf in my hand

and they shimmer in the moonlight as they float away

I stretch my legs, gives the tap one more turn

and then kicks the water below it with my foot

then I giggle

the child is gone, but only in form...