She never did this by choice,
To be in a crowded room,
And yet no one can hear her voice.

She misses the way it used to be,
Back when the only time she cried,
Was when she skinned her knees.

She misses how easily a smile used to come,
Before everything got complicated,
She’s not sure who she’s become.

Now, you’ve changed the way she sees the world,
Her life and all the people
Walking innocently around her.

The question is always floating
Around in her head,
Covered up by a silver coating.

If no one is around
To hear her cry,
Did she really make a sound?