First a giggling girl, short and stout 
With a naïve smile and occasional pouts 
She welcomed strangers with an open heart 
And silly conversations she would start 
The world, for her, was a paradise 
With cheery people and starry nights 
Gloom and despair were foreign blows
Thrown only in the tragic T.V. shows 
 
Then a confused teen, giddy and lost 
With a wavering smile, tiny and glossed 
She despised any meetings with strangers altogether 
‘Cuz, duh, she wanted to be alone for the better
Tragedy, she thought, was the genre of her life 
So the switch to the light she refused to find 
She fretted every day ‘bout the things she didn’t have 
Ignoring the splendid boons she’d already stashed  
 
Now a new adult, starting to feel confident 
With a smile that makes her tone just evident 
She welcomes strangers with an open mind 
But shuns away sometimes (‘cuz teenage ways still bind) 
Tragedy is still her part, but it’s now a sub-genre 
She wears all those trying memories like a pretty tiara 
The paradise is gone, but the world is still impressive 
Now she falls in love with life’s morphing magic