She was a girl, young and free

Playing in a field of her own daisies

Her mind, clear as the blue skies around her

Her face, untouched, one of nature’s beauty

Her hair, her curls swaying in the wind

Her smile, lighting up the world

Her life as free as a bird

Until that bird was shot, shot by society.

Her mind is now clouded, clouded by the judgments of others

Her face touched by layers and layers of fake

Her hair stands still, straight as a stick

Her smile, now forced, does not hide her insecure self

She is now just another copy. 

Watch on
Watch on