Little Miss

(taken from the perspective of a house)

In a white dress and pink sash
The little Miss would run around
Swing on the swing in my front yard
Roll and tumble on my soft, damp ground

Her mother would yell to her
To act like a lady with class
But it never once stopped her
From getting dirty in that grass

Then late at night she'd tip toe
Down my old wooden stairs
Miss the third step from the bottom
Because it was squeaky there

And she'd make her way to the jar
Full of cookies freshly baked
Eating her midnight snack
While I was the only one awake

I heard her piano lessons
As she improved through years
I listened to her pangs of love
And felt her falling tears

I know she spilt her mother's perfume
Just below the oak vanity
But her secret stayed away and safe
The only one who knows is me

But as years went on, and she grew
I saw less and less of this girl
She found a young man who took her
Farther from my own little world

And now, I am crumbled remains
With many memories to spare
Of the little Miss in the garden
Without a worry or care