Re-post; ‘That girl is me’

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Sometimes people see you,
as the girl that flies by.

That is so spontaneous
and really hates to cry.

You grew up way to fast.
Not really had a choice.

It wasn’t easy
to find your inner voice.

Wanted to be independent,
had no parents around.

Disappearing sometimes,
no where to be found.

When she’s with family
She laughs with tears.

Hoping one day
To let vanish the fears.

Now i’m being honoust
cause sometimes I hate to see.

That you were a fragile little girl
And now the grown up version is me

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