Broken Girl.
Broken Girl.
People say she's a beauty
She hears it all the time.
But when she thinks about herself,
She just can't tell why.
She looks into the mirror
Wishing for perfection.
She does her make up and straightens her hair,
Then frowns at her own refelection.
She throws the mirror down.
It shatters on the floor.
She runs to her bed crying;
She can't take it anymore,
She wants a better smile,
And different colour hair.
She hates her body, nose and feet.
And wishes her freckles weren't there.
She doesn't talk to many boys.
She's not popular at school.
She's hoping for attention,
And wishes she was cool.
You think she's very happy,
But that's really just a lie.
Her insecurities and pains,
Are hidden in disguise.
She goes back to the bathroom,
quietly shuts the door.
She picks up a piece of glass
And sits down on the floor.
She connects the puzzle together-
A puzzle made of glass
She starts to think; she thinks a lot,
Then she thinks about her past.
She remembers when she was little,
When nobody was mean.
It didn't matter how you looked or dressed-
It's so tough to be a teen.
She glued together the pieces
Still sitting on the cold bathroom tiles.
She looks at herself and sees:
She's a broken girl in a broken world forced to fake a smile.
Er zijn nog geen reacties.