She was born in December A day that was cold That's all they would recall
Little girl lost her mother Stare in the mirror And searches for a woman she'll never know Inside the child staring back Left to fill the spaces of holes Feeble answers to questions she'll never know
So she makes up a story About the woman in the photograph that she stole And imagines a life Where they share more than just their smiles And blonde hair
Some trees are planted Others have to grow on their own
She thinks about it less now She's older "It's just easier to left yourself forget" Memories are bestowed on the fortunate The forsaken have to learn to just throw them away
Now her son ventures out Unsure of what he'll find Or what he's even looking for He can't find his way despite his maps He throws them down (He understands)
Lost, the son bows his pathetic head And falls to his unscarred knees To thank God For giving such a little girl such strength
He lifts himself back up A little lighter now To see flowers blooming underneath him In the safety of these trees We're staring over now
We live our lucky, privileged lives Held together Forever by that girl who knew There must be something better