She - poem

At birth, she almost died;
At one, she's the apple of grandma's eyes.

At two, she's so adorable and cute;
At three, she played with anything new.

At four, she wondered about life in the day;
At five, she cried when grandma passed away.

At six, she wanted to leave her home;
At seven, she lived life in the gloom.

At eight, she wished she were dead;
At nine, she never lifts her head.

At ten, she knew life's cruel;
At eleven, she believed in "Never."

At twelve, she saw the Light;
At thirteen, she found her Friend and Guide.

At fourteen, she knew life had meaning;
At fifteen, she prayed in the evenings.

At sixteen, she knew what she'd work as;
At seventeen, she went ahead to be just that.

At eighteen, she knew her work made her glad;
At nineteen, she guarded her heart so it won't be sad.

At twenty, she thought someone might understand;
At twenty-one, she knew no one could sense.

At twenty-two, she learned to run or defend;
At twenty-three, she built her fence.

At twenty-four, she wondered what's the best use of life;
At the end, she knows to love is the best before one dies.

And the best expression of love is one's TIME.

- Bee

Posted on 26 July 2004