A Little Girl

A little girl sits and plays,
being just a little girl.
She doesn't fit in,
she doesn't conform.
She is just a little girl
being a little girl.
She does what she's told,
she obeys her parents.
She hides in her room
when her daddy is drunk.
She cries in her room
when her daddy is drunk.

That little girl begins to grow up.
And she still doesn't fit in,
and she still doesn't conform.
That older girl dreams of romance,
but she's always alone; it never arrives.
That older girl waits for a man,
but she suspects she will be alone.
That older girl finally finds a man
who says he loves her, says its forever.
She hides in her room
when he leaves her alone.
She cries in her room
when he leaves her alone.

That little girl is all grown up.
And she still doesn't fit in,
and she still doesn't conform.
That woman grown is a child inside,
that woman grown is battered and worn.
Her heart is heavy and free and chained,
been stomped and scarred and burned.
That woman grown dreams of romance,
but she's always alone; it never arrives.
She hides in her room
some things never change.
She cries in her room
why don't things ever change?

That woman grown, though a child inside,
is a woman who has been through hell.
That woman grown has battle scars
and has emerged a little more whole.
She is strong and proud and true and loved,
rock solid foundation of friendship.
That woman grown may dream of romance,
but she knows she can survive life alone.
And though sometimes she must hide and cry
she'll always emerge to face life again.
And so she sits and dreams and smiles,
another day lived, loved, and tried.