Poor little baby Tuesday. Nobody would dance with her in the rain.
She'd ask her dad and he would say no. He always had too much pride and she always had a free spirit.
Little did she know, she didn't have a dad. She had a father at very most. He's lucky she didn't call him a sperm dono. At least, not to his face.
She was just a girl back then; a girl who was forced to grow up too fast. To grow up without a dad.
She didn't like therapy. Her therapist told her that it was okay to cry. She didn't like that. Poor little Tuesday. Being raised my cold eyes taught her not to cry. Crying was weakness.
Boys don't cry.
You see, when your in the rain, it's hard to tell if your crying.
Poor little girl
Just waiting for her happy ending...
