The Picture

There, against the wall There's a picture Do you recognise her at all? Her hair full of body Her face full of Joy She sits there, On the swing Knowing nothing but Love and Joy She was once the Helen of Troy, All wanted to be her and see her beautifull face, Filled with joy... Where did all that go? How did she become the person next to me? Now, when you look at her... You see the marks that life has made Her foice sings a song filled with pain and hate Her eyes show no life... Does she really live? Or does she go thru every day wishing her life away? She doesn't even try to hide her pain She doesn't care anymore... Why should she fight if there's nothing to fight for? Is this the end of the game? The game of life and pain...