The Girl

There is a girl I know
At the end of my street
I a silent suburban house
That is always kept neat.

She always wore black overalls
And spotted red jeans
She always talks to the birds
I never knew what it means.

Her eyes were constantly watery
But have a dark glisten
They had a deep look in them
That always seemed to listen.

Here parents were depressed
Only in her eyes
Every time she tried to talk to them
Oh how they would cry

Her mind became empty
It seemed so clear
She never seemed bothered
She did’t have a care.

When I asked my mother
What she thought of her
Her face looked utterly shocked
Like she had suffered a scare.

She replied with a tear in her eye
She breathed heavily and said,
It’s been nearly two years
Since she has been dead.