See Dee skipping across the mulch
Her velcro shoes kicking up the dirt
Marching with the grace of a tank
She trips

See Dee tripping across the mulch
Her velcro shoes kicking in the air
Falling with the grace of a swan
She cries

See Dee crying across the mulch
Her velcro shoes kicking in shame
Weeping with the grace of a child
She dies

See Dee dying across the mulch
Her velcro shoes silent in the blood
Traveling with the grace of a god
She was

Hahaha I like this

This part seems like it doesn't quite fit... maybe it's the fact that you said 'the blood' and not 'her blood'?

There are two reasons for that. The first was because it fit the repetition a bit more "the dirt" "the air" "the blood", and the other part was I liked the idea of it perhaps not being her blood. The poem was originally going to be about my love of playing piano, and it turned into a song about a girl getting killed, possibly by a bomb or something. I had a vision half way through this poem about a girl playing in a playground in Iraq and getting bombed. It was a powerful image to me so I went with it.