The simple girl, with her simple life,
Her simple toys, no thoughts of strife.
In her mind, her imagination soared;
with fairytale princesses, jesters and lords,
Of magical kingdoms, where nothing went wrong,
No disease, or sadness; knights were always strong.
The mind of a child, so simple, so small.
Her dreams, her hopes, love would conquer all!
Now this girl has grown up a lot,
She dresses in black, and sometimes smokes pot,
As an escape from her unloving life,
Sheâ??s too stoned to think of being someoneâ??s wife.
For now itâ??s just the moments, with the smoke in the air.
Without that fix, she feels like no one cares.
Inside sheâ??s still small, but with gore-filled dreams,
She expresses herself through music that screams.
It screams out her call, she wants to be understood.
Way before that she gave up when no one could.
One quiet night, she sobbed from the pain
As the blood flooded out, from that simple neck vein.
The simple girl just simply bled
By the next morning, she was found dead.
