I flew a little kite,
Painted it with hues so vivid and bright,
So proud of its beauty,
Soared it high and haughty,
Wind blew against her little face,
Tiring her, in full pace,
Branches gnawed and clutched,
A Tide high and wretched,
Washing her colors,
Back she came as a shattered piece,
Tainted with mud and grease,
Drained of her color,
Embraced her lovingly and kissed her pallor,
Sewed her back together,
With my nerves, so strong,
Never again to go wrong,
Filled her with blood so pure,
Painted her back in tears of gold for sure,
Flew her more high than ever,
If you ever, come across a little kite,
On a lonely site,
Wave to my little cherub.
