Bristles of grass prod at her bare legs
Her heap of curly hair tangled in the leaves,
Arms crossed aimlessly over her chest; she envelops herself into a hug
Staring up at the sky, a smile stained against her lips
So very blue and so pure, it carried a childlike innocence that warmed her
What she does not know, this innocence that warms her so
It is fake, a facade.
What she does not know, what her ignorance blinds her too is the violent reality of what the sky has seen.
What it has heard.
So, she lays in the prickly grass, embracing herself, a stupid grin on her face.
All while distant cries can be heard, true innocence being stripped away, stolen.
Gun shots and bullet wounds
Disease and sickness
War and famine
All of which linger under the eyes of the sky.