Little girl:
Your lilac halo boasts wild days,
Yet your eyes, earthy and bold,
Whisper soft melodies of sweet innocence.
Little girl:
The bird on your shoulder shouts confidence,
Yet fidit... figi... fidgeting hands
Scramble days of rotten terror.
Little girl:
Be true to yourself;
We know who you are
We know you better.
You're not who you claim to be,
Despite all your changes.
Little girl:
Shut up.
Be still.
Be innocent.
Be what we want you to be,
Because all you are
Is what we make you to be.