She wraps herself in literature,
Believing in the intellectual world,
Ignoring the real picture.
As she tries to swim,
In water too deep to stand.
Thinking she can handle it.
Always, “I’ll be grand.”
So ruined it’s beautiful,
The typical teenage trag’dy.
Pain etched in her features.
But this isn’t an Audrey Hepburn movie.
No handsome man to save her,
She’s only there to be used.
And she’s falling into disrepair,
Not sure of the crimes she’s been accused.
For she’s too blind to see,
The cage she’s built around herself.
By playing to a different set of rules,
And refusing to see her inner wealth.
Friends watch on as,
As the cracks begin to show,
As the loneliness seeps through the brave face,
And you can’t take another blow.
But the words won’t come to you,
And there’s no whiskey in the case,
And the fags are all gone,
And the men without a trace.
I stand awkward.
As your life falls apart.
Who am I but a passing face?
Should I try and mend your shattered heart?
You were never grand.
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