A bucktooth'd short.

A bucktooth’d kid stands idly, with a chalk board smile, teeth and feet that don’t quite touch. He intends to look at the sign, but stares into the sky and into stars in his heart. Not yet understanding the world enough to cry at the bitter sweet harmony that a blue sky holding three scattered clouds holds, he wonders if he’ll ever have a chance to be the forth cloud. His thought isn’t deep, and his emotions not fared, but little did he know twenty years on he’d be still wondering the same thoughts, and looking into the same sky, the same empty heart with stars no longer burning.