The Naïve Girl

She walks where flowers softly bloom, With dreams as light as clouds in May Her heart, so pure, so free, so bright, Sees only warmth in morning light. She hums a tune the robins sing, Believes the world is kind in spring. She trusts the whispers of the breeze, That life is simple, full of ease. She gives her heart with open hands, Not knowing fate’s uncertain plans. She paints the world in hues of gold, Ignoring stories harsh and cold. But seasons change, and so must she, The world is not as kind as dreams. Yet still, within her hopeful chest, A gentle faith will never rest.