There is a little girl, with a messy braid.
And that little girl comforts me, whenever I'm afraid.
I've never known a person kinder, than that child in pink.
She smiles so brightly, and she tells me what she thinks.
She has dreams so large, and that makes my stomach churn.
She is a moth to a flame, but I know what it's like to burn.
That little girl is so sure, so full of belief,
That she sees the good in me, even when i'm drowning in my grief.
Sometimes I yell at her, call her stupid and naive.
A foolish little girl, so easy to deceive.
I see her eyes go wide, but her smiles always returns.
full of forgiveness that I didn't even have to earn.
She asks me what it's like to be so grown up.
I tell her that I find it hard, to even wake myself up.
She asks me if I've fallen in love, like in a tv-show.
And I tell her falling in love, is something i'll never know.
She never really understands,
her world so much simpler than mine.
But still she holds both my hands,
completely sure that i'll be fine.
She tells me that I'm pretty, that I'm smart, and that I'm cool.
And I tell her to be careful, and to have fun at her school.
I tell her that I miss her, and she scrunches her little brow.
And she asks me how it's even possible, to miss yourself.