When I look at her face,
a small child who is "she"
  and it's clear she has no
idea of stale ideals that block her
path

You are a small angel, and
you're unaware of trails that look like gold

There is truth: they are just gift-wrapped.
hiding "be polite.
"don't sit like that.
"cross your legs.

Here is your truth: You are not small. You are full of magic and there is no path that you don't own.