Not A Perfect Play

This is not a story about a perfect girl.
This is not a perfect play.
This is the story of an imperfect girl, and she went away.
I'll tell of the demons that tendered her woes.
You'll hear of the plagues in her head.
Together we'll travel the path that she chose.
We'll see how she came to be dead.

Our first scene opens on the first day of school;
Where we lay the very first brick.
Who knew that children could be so damn cruel?
She feels like she's going to be sick.
And through all that torment; the anger and pain,
She feels as though no one is there.
She doesn't think she has a right to complain;
We all have our crosses to bear.

She's raised from perdition, but the damage is done.
There's really no way she can win,
 Because even though she longs to be with someone,
She just can't let anyone in.

So onward she travels, she's all on her own.
It seems nothing can bring her to tears.
But what they don't know is, that when she's alone,
She surrenders herself to her fears.

Crying herself to a deep, restless sleep,
The oncoming darkness seems kind.
Whilst dreams of dark angels who've come here to reap
Dance around in her poor shattered mind.

A dark storm is brewing, she's always at war;
Each word is shot meant to kill.
She tries to survive it, she can't take much more,
As each blow breaks her soul further still.

We close on her deathbed, as all come to mourn.
So called friends, they all gather and cry.
But where were those friends from the day she was born
Til' the day she decided to die?

This is not a story about a perfect girl.
This is not a perfect play.
This is the story of an imperfect girl
And how she went away.