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Eleven
Swinging through the air
Wind whipping through her hair
Jumping off mid swing
She quietly begins to sing
She lifts her bandaged knee
To step over the debris
As her song is left behind her
Her hand runs through a passing dog’s fur
Skipping over every crack
To make sure she save’s her mother’s back
With no care in the world
She is a beautiful girl
One who is longing to be seen
No bone in her is mean
When she gets to the school house stairs
She waves to her friends who drift back in the air
Nobody can see her face
Because it’s hidden by God’s grace
She is an angel of his
And she lifts children’s spirits
A returning child going to heaven
And to think she died at only eleven
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