The Five Year-Old Girl
The five-year old girl finally learned to hate
which was fate
when she saw the expression on his face
that look from her head she could not erase
All we wanted to do was put him in his place
watching the cars a perfect pace
He moved away from the street
but that was okay
because this would not be our defeat
This little girl cried and felt pain
her tears flowed like the rain
in fear that we could not regain
we made ourselves sustain
Even though he didn't think
he was wrong
The feelings inside us grew strong
Time grew long and our emotions grew strong
But now we didn't like this man
who once in our eyes was grand
there was no longer love
or the pleasure of his hand
Only death is what I started to plan
Anger worked quickly and only bad memories
is what I could see
The more bad memories there were
the more displeasure
only anger is what I could measure
They came more quickly page by page
then they stopped and what was left on top
I thought a fluke, a flop
The image became clear and I embraced it
all those bad memories
but the good ones wasted
It brought me leisure
I laughed at it, I smiled
then my anger began to go mild
That memory save him, or perhaps it saved me
And finally it was clear and I was able to see
it wasn't me who had done it
but the five-year old girl who had saved me
which was fate
when she saw the expression on his face
that look from her head she could not erase
All we wanted to do was put him in his place
watching the cars a perfect pace
He moved away from the street
but that was okay
because this would not be our defeat
This little girl cried and felt pain
her tears flowed like the rain
in fear that we could not regain
we made ourselves sustain
Even though he didn't think
he was wrong
The feelings inside us grew strong
Time grew long and our emotions grew strong
But now we didn't like this man
who once in our eyes was grand
there was no longer love
or the pleasure of his hand
Only death is what I started to plan
Anger worked quickly and only bad memories
is what I could see
The more bad memories there were
the more displeasure
only anger is what I could measure
They came more quickly page by page
then they stopped and what was left on top
I thought a fluke, a flop
The image became clear and I embraced it
all those bad memories
but the good ones wasted
It brought me leisure
I laughed at it, I smiled
then my anger began to go mild
That memory save him, or perhaps it saved me
And finally it was clear and I was able to see
it wasn't me who had done it
but the five-year old girl who had saved me
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