She was five and wrote a poem

It was about the rain

Soon after ten years she

Wrote about her pain

She was nine and wrote a story

About a blue bunny

Soon after a few years she

Wrote stories that doesn’t end happily

 

She was eleven the first time

A boy had ever made her blush

Soon after two years she

Knew the true meaning of “crush”

She was 15 her eyes were

Watery with salty tears

When she tried to face her fears

 

Only to be dwelling in the darkest place

There was a scared expression on her face

When she was five she’d cry

And play with her dolls

Now she wouldn’t even bother

To answer any calls

 

When she was four she’d wake up early

To look out the window and see

The sun rise and the world awaken

Now she prefers that her

Eyes would never open

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