The Beautiful Survivor

A little girl sits on someone’s knee,
Another one only dreams.
There is no place to sit,
Only a place to pretend

Pretending is like a dream,
But it isn’t the ones she likes.
She knows somewhere in her head,
That of those things she dreads.

Her friends didn’t see it,
She never let them in.
She dreamt of what they had,
Because most of what she knew was bad.

Did she even know herself?
She hid so much,
She isn’t sure what’s true,
The images are so few.