A drop of dew

Waiting for her morn, to a night she was born.
She rose from a rose then tripped o'er a thorn.
Ready to shine all bright and new.
Only to drop, like a drop of dew.

Into a million pieces her dreams shattered.
Mixed in mud all bruised and battered.
Laying there still, she won't open her eyes.
Hanging on a hope that someday she'll rise.

Her pain won't leak, not once in a while.
Hiding it all, beneath her gorgeous smile.
She is an actress and life is her stage.
I admire her courage it grows with her age.

But sometimes I wish, if only she would try.
Her life would be easy, only if she could cry.
She could count herself among those strongest few.
If she could let a tear drop, like a drop of dew

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