Nightime

Between half moon-light, and shadows aghast
A small lonely girl, wanders past
Blissfully unaware, blissfully alone
As the harsh night winds, blissfully groan
A harsh, hard white, reflecting her skin
Beats down like a storm, On her facade like grin
Her pace quickens, as she crosses the bridge
Her fear of eternal falling, over a small broken ridge
Her canvas of emotion, painted with fear, and despair
Feels replaced with self warmth, happiness fills the air
The night grows darker still, and colder none-the-less
Yet the girl keeps walking, in just a cotton dress
Tattered and torn, her clothes much the same
She falls down hard, her foot catching a drain
She picks herself back up, stands as tall as she can
For this poor broken girl is back where she began