She lays on her bed in her room when she has time With her eyes glued o the ceiling Her toughts meet past and future and reality Together with a very extreme feeling
It seems like all the bad and all the darkness Were following her the whole life And she just sits ther, prays and says: „god, why me, I want to be womething better. Don't I deserve to be?“
She is sad and crying Slow music in her dead She doesn't even forget dying Loosing power in her bed
Get up, do believe do it
Do not hide
Keep your pride
Believe in youself
My sweet child
Life is wild
Believe in youself
Those she loved they her for some reason Or just used her to fill their time of lust She is not just a gilr for only one season Understanding is for her a must – s
She has a pictue in her head Trying to make it the same or even better I was a part of it also But now she knows better
