Soul Thing

Soul Thing

I see a small little girl,
Hiding inside,
With a broken down heart and,
A hobby of dying.

Her face is plastered with,
Lies he had spit in her face,
Her arms are covered with,
Little thin red lines.

I see the darkness in her eyes,
The cold, hollow path,
She`s led so far,
So long.

She doesn`t want to be here,
Sick of getting played,
Sick of getting hurt,
Just sick.

Every time she thinks she`s going to be okay,
She relapses back into the little girl inside,
All because they don`t understand,
She can only play the game so long.

Everything she ever wanted to be,
Had been blown from its candle,
Her hopes and dreams,
Have died when her sun became black.

The world seems not to understand,
The pain she is in,
Knocking on a locked door,
That will forever be closed.

I see a small little girl,
Hiding inside,
With a broken down heart and,
A hobby of dying.

It`s just a Soul Thing of hers.