I'm a little rusty with poetry, but I don't hate this. It doesn't read as smoothly as I would like it, and has had very little editing. I want to make it as good as I can, but please try not to rip it into little tiny pieces.
She stood on the edge of the woods,
The girl with flowers in her hair,
Waiting.
He promised he would be there,
He would come, she hoped,
If only she waited long enough.
The girl with flowers in her hair,
Standing on the edge of the woods,
Waiting.
Are you scared, little girl?
Are shadows too deep?
Will you run, little girl, or will you wait the night?
Hide, little girl,
There are things in the dark you should not see.
Run, little girl,
In the light you’ll be free, because
He isn’t coming, little girl.
Wait until the day,
But it will never be his face you see.
She waited,
The girl with flowers in her hair,
For a boy who would never come home.
Though the dark came,
And the shifting shadows,
She waited.
Until the sun drove the darkness away,
And a diamond tear fell at her feet.
She fled from the woods,
From the darkness,
The fear,
The spun glass hope,
To see a boy with storm gray eyes.

