She would tell you the story,
behind the pain in her eyes,
yet she still smiles,
because she is a daydream in disguise.
Her nose is in a book,
and her mind is in the clouds,
exposing her fragmented self,
to the delirious crowds.
Her pink lips were once magnetic to someone's heart,
so there she sits convalescent,
to be given a second chance,
and become effervescent.
Her delicate laughter says it all,
it tells of her strength to carry on,
but somewhere like a pure flower child,
her heart weeps 'till dawn.