My skin and bones are a fragile frame;
Containing art the world tries to name;
Call me quiet or call me loud;
Call me whatever pleases the crowd;
You can tell me I'm ugly or tell me I'm pretty;
Just a small flame glowing in an already burning city;
You don't know why I'm still trying so hard;
You don't know how much I've already been scarred;
My art is tattered;
My frame is shattered;
I'm falling to pieces in front of the people;
Bowing down on my knees at your steeple;
Praying for someone to see me;
Praying for help to lift me from bended knee;
Why do you still think I'm flawless;
Is that how you find solace;
Looking at the broken as they crumble;
Claiming all they did was stumble;
I'm right, aren't I;
That's why I can't cry;
You want me to pretend to be whole;
Like you never asked me to sell my soul;
Okay, I'll paint on my smile;
It will fool them all for a little while;
And then when my smile starts to fade;
With no more strength for the role I played;
I'll fade into the darkness alone;
Just a fragile girl of skin and bone
Comments