Call me naive...
as a girl who pricked her thumb
from a rose that was given by a careless boy...

I do not remember why I know so much...
or maybe I do, I just have chosen to hide them.
oh the glory in not knowing...

I will not lie to you...
because that would be foolish of me
there is a difference between sharing all, and sharing some...

But it is wise to understand...
that we cannot be naive forever
and the more we know seems to hurt us...

Oh how I wish I were still naive...