I'm looking at a photo of me.
I am thirteen.
I have never been kissed,
Never been touched,
Never known love.
My hair is bleached blonde
And I know nothing of sorrow.

I'm looking at a photo of me.
I am sixteen.
His lips have kissed every part of me;
Every inch of my skin has been touched.
I have never known love.
My hair is bleached blonde,
And now I know sorrow.

I am looking at my face in the mirror.
I am eighteen.
My skin has been kissed by the sun.
I now touch only to show affection,
Because I know it now;
I know love.
I'm letting my roots grow out;
I know nothing of sorrow.