My little poet

I have a bunch of littler siblings who are all very special (read strange and quirky and incredibly interesting) in their own right. But tonight, it is the littlest one who has drawn me out in baffled surprise. She's seventeen years my junior (a fact that is going to drive me insane in the near future as I embark on my looming mid-life crisis), and at eleven years, she is as smart as a whip. She's very attuned to people around her emotionally, and as the evidence below will imply, I worry that she might be a tad cynical... I'm a bit worried at some of the depth of emotion that has evolved from her words - emotion I, at a SLIGHTLY riper age, do not seem capable of. She's recently begun to write poetry, and am eager to know your thoughts on the same.

I hereby present to you the words of Khushboo Shah.

Goodbye

As I said my goodbyes
I felt like a firefly
As my flight would leave in ten minutes
I couldn't say goodbye to mum
Otherwise I would start sucking my thumb
I couldn't say goodbye to dad
Otherwise I might get mad, or sad
I couldn't say goodbye to my siblings
Because they helped me with everything
But now I want to say goodbye
I need to cry
No matter how much I want to cry
I cannot cry
But now I find myself crying

And now for the REALLY perturbing one:

Untitled

All my life I believed
In a dream of a tale
Where a prince meets a girl
And it ends happily
But now I see that it can't
And it won't
Because my happy ending
Has been written into
A fated tragedy

Even now I find
I can never forget
All the songs that you wrote
And I sang
And it echoes in my heart
Every note that I hear
In my mind
Drives me mad
And I find
That I'm falling and
Falling apart

I am just wishing that
I could break the chains that
Hold me back
So I could maybe
Return
To better days