Here comes the girl who is pale as death

She walks up to us with no skip in her step

She approaches us shyly and lets out a single breath

We welcome her with open arms and take her under our wing

We make her laugh, we make her smile, she gave us something, so we give

But little did we know that she was hurting 

Little did we know that her parents were splitting, and her mother left with few years to live

Little did we know

This is the story of someone I know, and also as a side note: I'm not really good at poetry.