I've watched people like you who think they're better,
Who bluntly accuse others of being rather naïve.
You judged and you labeled, but you never met her.
You haven't considered the things she can achieve.
Stop cutting her down; she can hardly stand.
You pretend she isn't there, isn't worthwhile,
Yet you wonder about the shaking of her hand
And why the poor girl doesn't ever smile.
Everyday, her single pleading prayer
That you will one day accept her love,
Ascends an infinite and winding stair
On the wings of a pure white dove.
To this girl, you are the world,
But her dreams can't be unfurled.
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