Though you think she is happy,
Though you think she's normal,
She's not.
She cries herself to sleep,
She holds her animals and creams.
She is angry all other times.
So what if she smiles?
It's all a play.
Though you can't see it, it's there.
Though you deny it, it happens.
Though she tries to hide it,
And believe it is gone, it always comes back.
Why fight it anymore?
Why hide it? It's useless.
No one wants a girl like her.
Why pretend?
Why try to be what I'm not?
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