I see you changing girl, from day to day,
impressed by and trying to imitate
those who are older,
those who are colder,
suddenly embarrassed by your age.

Our bigger blessing, girl
is being young,
the power of not knowing
where you belong.

I try so hard to keep it,
not to lose that secret,
waiting for someone like you to come along.

Maybe it was me that made you old,
stole whatever it was that made you glow.
A little touch of something,
a lot for work of nothing...
And now our heart, once open,
will be closed..