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The Girl
As I walked down a street,
I noticed a girl,
Her hair was blonde,
With the slightest curl,
She seemed to be lost,
Looking around,
She seemed to be scared,
With no hope of being found,
She twisted and twirled,
She turned and she spun,
She looked around, bewildered,
Looking for someone,
I walked down that street,
Up to that girl,
Whose hair was blonde,
With the slightest curl,
I picked her up,
Carried her home,
Adopted her,
And became her mom.
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