Misguided

I thought you knew me? On that sunny day, we talked, talked about the future, the future between you and me. Knowing that you didn’t know as much as you thought, I thought you knew, but who knows? This shy little girl, she was ready, ready to spread her wings and fly. That shy little girl was ready to cry, cry out loud, all her pain. That girl was lost, she couldn’t figure it out, she didn’t know. How sad that girl was. What a pity. What a shame, a damn shame. Running around like she was crazy, just like a chicken with its head cut off. She cried tears of blood, and dreamed dreams of darkness and hate. She hated what she saw in the mirror, but loved what she seen in others. She loved the mysteries of the water, and how the waves moved back and forth as if they knew that they were entertaining a strange guest’s eye. She was blinded by self pity, and love for everyone but her self. That girl never let anyone in to see the true her, for they would hate her so. “She’s strange,” they would say. “She’s not like us, she’s different.” “We don’t like her kind,” they would exclaim. What a damn shame. Some people are so misunderstood. They’re light and dark, but light within, light with so much strength, but dark with hope. Find your way; find your way home, sad little girl. For they don’t truly know you for you.