A tale of my small sibling and her friends. |
Malch slides way as feet kick through Small children, running, fast, To the person whom they were running to They thought would be safe, at last. "Miss," One said, pleeing to me, "Those boys are being mean," "They pulled hard on your sister's hair, Laughing as she sxreamed." I smile as I call out to the boys, "You should leave her alone, For she has someone older who's watching her, somoene with eyes cold as stone." The children whimpered and scurried away, and in the midst my sister dear, she cluthced at her scalp and let out a yell Through an effort to hold back tears. As I comfort her, the children stare, They had once thought me a kind hero, But they'd seen something that made them think "Was she a friend, or a foe?" The little girls swarmed with questions so loud I laughed at their eager young will, Til' one voice sounded high above the rest, A voice very quiet, but shrill. "Miss, you seem a bit scary right now," She said with her face smooth and cold, "How dare you reavel yourself to us, for that was indeed very bold." I smiled, expecting the accusation, It came at one time or another, Til' quieted by the soft, anxious hands Of a certainly quite confused mother, For I had been born with gleaming sharp teeth That made some children cry, some admire, "Why, with teeth like those," a little one said, "Surely you are a vampire?" I laughed a hearty sigh of relief And patted the girl on the head, "Why, no, little girl, that is not true, By what traitor were these rumors fed?" I turned and waited for a pale hand to raise, And my wish really did come true, For there in the center, blushing and timid, Was a little girl dressed all in blue. "Well, you seem careless and without emotion," the little girl carried with ease, "And I noticed that you hid from the outdoors, From the sun and the calm of the breeze." "But the wierdest of all is the way that you dress, Adorned with fierce knickety-knacks, Why, It is simply one's reason to say that from head to toe, you're dressed in black!" All I can do to these children are smile, hoping I won't scare them away, but such is the imagination of the child, Prone to waver and sway. |