delicious yet sour
the excitement plagued with guilt
to speak silently
Little girl lost.
Hands all grabbing,
Taking more than ever was.
Small fingers clasping.
Holding as an infant does.
Softly glowing, a light keeps waiting.
The passing wind of one last swipe.
A flame ignites.
Fingers open to exploding light.
The burn cool to the touch,
Unknown unless held in the flame,
Warning those that would take.
Little girl lost never the same.