She walked her head held high,
In case if she got splattered by paint at any moment of course,
At least she would look like she could survive,
Because how you look on the outside is all that really matters right?
Her reflection so deep in the sapphire sky imparted by the crystal moonlight,
Her crisp chlorine hair grabbed all the townsmen eyes,
Is it okay if you look like you have the perfect life?
On the inside you die from bleeding,
Is this alright?
She put on a smile worth 1,000 miles,
Moving her hair strand by strand as she greeted the townsfolk and shook their hand,
The catty girls would laugh and sparkle thinking
“Oh girl has the perfect life why should we suffer?”
Tripping her by the swish of a book getting trapped in her heel,
Playing head games with her so they could hear her girly squeal,
A girl who let all the humans want her life,
Led to a personal tragedy loosing her own.