My words may be the only thing I have from my childhood,
The only thing I cherished from my childhood.
The only thing that's dear to me.
My voice may be the only thing I listen to from my childhood,
The pain, the joy, the Laughter of my childhood,
A conflicting story of my words, my thoughts and ideas,
I am the person I hold close to me from my childhood,
A little girl who had wandered and still is wandering,
She's tired but never sleepy,
Crying but never sad,
Yet her tears flowed like an angry river,
Whenever I'm lost I look to the girl from my childhood,
The little girl who is scared but yet strong, the girl who's always strangely in danger,
Finding ways to fit herself into the narrative,
My words are the only thing I hold dear to me from my childhood,
So I will listen to her...
