Life is a playground,
And you just fell and scraped your knee.
But I'll be your best friend,
The little boy that cleaned your boo-boo,
And put on your band aide.
The one that stoped your tears,
And swang with you on the swing.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The little girl was running on the uneven mulch, and she tripped and fell. As her knee made contact with the rough material, her skin scraped, causing a nasty scraped knee. She turned, and gripped it in pain, and a silant tear streamed down her face. She went to stand up, to limp home. But before her small body could stand up, a dark shadow crossed over her. She looked up to an extended hand, belonging to a blond haired and blue eyed boy her age. She accepted the hand, and the boy helped her up.
"Are you ok?" asked his little boy voice. The girl nodded, and studied the boy. "Come to my house. I'll fix your boo-boo." So the boy brought the girl to his house, cleaning the boo-boo, and before he put on the bandage, kissed it, just like his mommy does. Applying the band aide, they agreed to be best friends.
Three years later the little girl was learning to ride a bike. The boy sat and watched, smiling. Suddenly, the girl veered, and fell off. Her knee, the same knee, hit the pavement, scraping the sidewalk. More tears filled her eyes, but once again, the shadow loomed infront of her, with a face of the little boy. The boy helped her up again, took her inside, and kissed the boo-boo. Sealing the band aide, they promised to be best friends for ever and ever.
Six years later, the little boy, and little girl are thirteen. The girl was talking with her first boyfriend, her best friend feeling a little sad lonley. But that was OK with him. She was happy. The boyfriend stood up and left. The little girl was clearly upset, and looking down at her knee. The little boy came over, and stood infront of her, his shadow looming in front of her again. She looked up and smiled, her break up forgotten in the pressence of her best friend.
Another three years pass. It's the night of the prom, and the little girl is getting ready for her prom date, all the while the boy sits on her bed, listening to her talk about how night will be great. He smiles, in a hoodie and jeans. Staying home to support his best friends. He gazed at her, nodding and smiling. She was all ready, beautiful in her prom dress. A limo pulled up, and they walked out. The girl smiled and waved at the little boy, and got in. The limo pulled away, leaving the little boy's shadow to stand alone.
Many years pass, and the little boy and little girls lose in touch. The little girl gets a husband, and starts a family. Her husband is called to the army, and it's tough on her. The world crashed around her when she got the letter that her husband was shot and killed. She was to have his funeral right away. The funeral took place on a warms evening light. The now widowed family sat in the front, crying over their loss. No one noticed a man with blue eyes and blonde hair in the back, a little tears in his own eyes, shadow stretching across the grass behind him.
A year passed, and the little girl is crying in front of her husbands grave. A shadow steps in front of her, long, and dark. The little girl looks up. An outstretched hand. The hand belonging to the little boy.
