She was five and wrote a poem
It was about the rain
Soon after ten years she
Wrote about her pain
She was nine and wrote a story
About a blue bunny
Soon after a few years she
Wrote stories that doesn’t end happily
She was eleven the first time
A boy had ever made her blush
Soon after two years she
Knew the true meaning of “crush”
She was 15 her eyes were
Watery with salty tears
When she tried to face her fears
Only to be dwelling in the darkest place
There was a scared expression on her face
When she was five she’d cry
And play with her dolls
Now she wouldn’t even bother
To answer any calls
When she was four she’d wake up early
To look out the window and see
The sun rise and the world awaken
Now she prefers that her
Eyes would never open
Dear Juliet 