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Evie Richards Nov 2017
Cushions at the window,
and bed-spreads on the floor,
sits a girl with chestnut hair,
staring at the walls;
she's quiet and she's funny,
she's pretty and she's smart,
but she feels the things that you don't say,
and it hurts her bleeding heart.

Cause she don't know,
oh no she don't;
she don't know that her smile lights up the room
and that her light can carry far.
And she don't know,
and she don't care
that every time she hides her tears
her pretty face goes bare.


Sadness shapes her figure
and tear-stains ***** her cheeks.
she sits alone on a bathroom floor -
it's been happening all **** week.
Her friends wouldn't understand;
cause it's something she keeps inside,
so she runs downstairs to the girls bathroom -
'cause it's something she tries to hide.

cause she don't know,
oh no, she don't;
she don't know that her smile lights up the room
or that her light can carry far.
And she don't know,
and she don't care
that every time she hides her tears
her pretty face goes bare.


And she don't know.
A song that I wrote.

— The End —