Once upon a time to come,
You’ll hear the story of a girl.
Folks may yet know little,
But she’ll have a tale to be told. 

 

The path she often takes,
Can be set with bumps and turns…
Even as she tries to believe,
In the madness of her being.

Believing it could carry her,
To the truth of her living,
It can bring forth intense chaos…
Her little eyes don’t wish to see.

So she teaches herself to believe,
Everything has a purpose.
Time will be the answer,
To all that’s been and to be.

She accepts herself today
Cause of what happened yesterday.
She wouldn’t be what she is today,
If not for for that yesterday.

 

She works to find her place
Through her weary little eyes.
Not just the vision and love
That others have for her.

For you will only see,
What she puts forth of her.
For you will only see,
What you’d choose to see of her.

She cherishes your affection,
And counts her blessings too,
But strives to not make it the basis…
Of her existence, life or being.

She hopes to honor and care for you,
Knowing you probably wouldn’t feel the same.
Or maybe even feel it for a bit,
And then it all might just change.

 

She’s still going to live through,
Everything that comes her way.
That comes forth from you
To her.. even if in disarray.

She cannot control destiny.
But she can choose the path she takes.
She cannot control your actions.
But she chooses to learn from them.

Life surely happens to her,
Even if it’s hard to believe.
What she chooses when it does,
Defines and makes her ME.

Through mellow weary little eyes…
She watches the calm world outside.
As she works on controlling chaos,
The battle going on up inside.

 

For I am not just my story
I am bigger than my story.
For I am not just a story
Though folks there’ll be my tale.

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