Seven Years

Spinning, laughing, dancing to her favourite song. A little girl, with nothing wrong, is all alone.

Eyes wide open, always hoping for the sun. And she'll sing her song to anyone that comes along.

Fragile as a leaf in autumn. Just fallin' to the ground without a sound. Crooked little smile on her face tells a tale of grace that's all her own.

Spinning, laughing, dancing to her favourite song. She's a little girl with nothing wrong.
And she's all alone.
~ Norah Jones

While lying in the comfort of my bed in a room of perfect temperature, just the right amount of light coming from the side table lamp and indulging in a magnificent book by Mark Haddon, Norah Jones serenades in the background and captures my full attention on one of her numbers, Seven Years. I once overheard someone make a sensible statement - about how every seven years of our lives is like a new phase. Like seven years from the day you were born to pre-school and kindergarten, and the next seven years from Standard One to Standard Six, the next seven being Form One to Form Five/ Upper Six, another seven for college and Uni days, seven more as you enter the gates of a young working adult, plus minus another seven to when you could probably get married and become a parent, and seven on, seven forth.

It has been seven years since we met...
She's a little girl with nothing wrong, and she's all alone.