tommorow is the day.

shes misses how life used to be,
stressful, but yet care free.
a mouth full of pills to relive some pain,
day by day, living in vain.

her famly wonders where their "little girl" has gone.
it's only become a vauge fantisy,
where did the little blonde wringlets go?
innocent while independent.
they cease to acknowedge her pain.

her mother belives she's selfish,
in reality she's selfless.
she covers the marks,
what keeps her sain.
she lives everyday, saying;
tommorow will be the day.

when tommorow comes,
pulses pound, sainity is sometimes found.
but tommorow is the day.