She played at night in the greenery of the silent fields,
Glowing above weeds, vines and shrubs that grew to her mellow hums.
She had a heart that cured wounds of the worse,
And sparked smiles that lit up the skies.
Her heart shown through the cloth that lined her blouse,
Making her bleed colors; warm, lovely colors…
She spun circles in forests leaving a trail of neon lamplight,
Which not even crows could swallow.
She hadn’t a name, for she couldn’t afford such a thing,
But she acted as if she could.
The young beauty had a face painted over with freckles,
And ashen, cut up lips that were held up by her bony dimples.
Her hair untidy on her head was tied in emblem ribbons that fell to her shoulders.
The youth was a artistry hushed,
Sealed in pale flesh that was nailed to her bones ruthlessly.
Her soul was as sweet as candy coated in sugar and
She used this to travel the world helping others;
For she was the girl with the glow stick heart...
