Did she ever have it?
The girl with flowers in her hair.
Dances with the moonlight.
Sings sorrow.
Sings of love.
Maybe she was.
Maybe she wasn't enough.
We hold memories of her,
Shining brightest like a sun beam.
She's gone.
Leaving those around her to wonder,
Where did the imagination go?
The glimmer of light might have been taken.
Or maybe it was a dreamless existence,
That took the light for themselves.
It's a fickle thing.
To dream in a world that's unkind.
We grasp to anything showing hope.
Then we can say...
Did she ever have it?
And she did.
After we have taken it for ourselves.
Shell became her heart.
She wasn't ever understood.
The songbird.
She knew at least one heard though.
She sang in the dark to an empty room.
Filled with only the thoughts of an even one ear.
She still dances.
When no one is looking.
When the manontany of life is so real now.
Where everyone waits to die.
She began to live.
Fly.
The dreamer.
The inventor of crazy things.
Wild thoughts ran through her like wild mint grew.
The crazy one.
It brought her to tears, sometimes.
Holding on to a secret she felt.
The world always had many no's.
But she did have it.
All along.
It was the way people looked at her.
It was as simple as people knowing she didn't belong.
Dear god, who belongs?
It's that difference that strengthens a soul.
Some people never leave that place.
Then she wonders if they ever had it?
It's noones fault.
We do the best we can.
I just would rather dream something crazy.
Then never dream at all.
Do you have it?
