She walks to school with the lunch she packed
Nobody knows what she's holdin' back
Wearin' the same dress she wore yesterday
She hides the bruises with linen and lace
A short girl dashed out of her apartment and onto the streets, book bag in hand. Her jacket is now torn in the arm, showing black and blue. A call of her name is heard from behind, the call belongs to that of her one and only friend. The other notices the bruises, but keeps silent. She knows not to ask, and a silent promise is kept. The shaking girl fixes her laced corset, trying to hide her pain.
The teacher wonders but she doesn't ask
It's hard to see the pain behind the mask
Bearing the burden of a secret storm
Sometimes she wishes she was never born
The girl takes her usual seat in the back of class, her headphones in to block out the world. Her page is blank, along with her face. The teacher wanders over to the girl to question the lack of motivation, when she notices more bruises than the day before.