There was a young girl call Kirsty
who drunk more than she could of whiskey
She fell for a boy
which bought her much joy
But with two loves in her life
her heart was pickled with strife
With no one to stop her
she ended up in the gutter
There were no shooting stars to be seen
just shades of blue black and green
Until one days she took a step
eleven more would swiftly be met
Her creativity nourished,
new friends flourished
Life found a new jump skip and hop
but her heart never recovered the shock
