Every morning
I look out my bedroom window
and every morning
I see the little girl accross the street
she walks accross her driveway
in her scrap paper clothes
with her bruised and cut up arms and legs
But almost seeming
like she never knew about her wounds
The litte girl picks up her dandilions
and walks to the abandoned graveyard
She lays a single dandilion on each grave as she sings....
I may not be as pretty as you
my life may stink
and have no rules
But it won't matter
after this
cause mommy snapped
and so did her fists.
And after she sang
and gently layed down each dandilion
the little girl walked home
as she did this
she looked up at me
and I looked down at her
speachless
and with a single
tear in her eye
the little girl knew
she had to return home
And with her brave
and inocent face
she walked through
the doors of her home
gave one lasts look over her shoulder
smiled through her tears
and then closed the door.
I look out my bedroom window
and every morning
I see the little girl accross the street
she walks accross her driveway
in her scrap paper clothes
with her bruised and cut up arms and legs
But almost seeming
like she never knew about her wounds
The litte girl picks up her dandilions
and walks to the abandoned graveyard
She lays a single dandilion on each grave as she sings....
I may not be as pretty as you
my life may stink
and have no rules
But it won't matter
after this
cause mommy snapped
and so did her fists.
And after she sang
and gently layed down each dandilion
the little girl walked home
as she did this
she looked up at me
and I looked down at her
speachless
and with a single
tear in her eye
the little girl knew
she had to return home
And with her brave
and inocent face
she walked through
the doors of her home
gave one lasts look over her shoulder
smiled through her tears
and then closed the door.

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