You are the taste of a lolly,
sweet and warming

You are the distance,
of a sweet girl and a bully's voice

You are the smell of a orange,
sitting lonely on a teachers desk

You are a lost boot,
founed at the beach,
like a isolated flower

You are as,
slow as a slug,
as quick as a hair
and as quit as a flower growing

You are as bright,
as a twinkling star

You are in billericay,
sitting on a wet,
lonley day

You are the stars,
in the gorgeous night sky

You are the fox,
in the room of wolfs.

You are the emerald,
in the golden crown.