She sits there
And takes another drag of her cigarette.
Thinks about the bills to pay.
Worries about the things she can’t change.
Every wrinkle on her eye,
Tells a different story.
All the things that led
Her to the life of the bed she made.
Are played in her mind each day.
Stronger than she thinks she is,
She still looks to find things to fill.
The holes that still burn deep inside,
The things she can’t leave behind.
She gets up and a starts it all again,
Picking up the pieces.
All alone she cries,
But to everyone she is just fine.
She wears a smile and helping hand
To help her mend the things within.
To you she’s just another one,
To me she is the moon & sun.