What Goes Around Comes Around

I was a creative child
a liar, manipulator, adult impersonator
There wasn’t anything that I couldn’t have
think, dream, take

I was the kind of child that parents forgot was a child
The kind of child left alone to take care of her self
The child in the corner of the playground holding court with her imaginary friends

Then one day I forgot about myself
And I remembered everybody else
they wanted honesty
asked me to sacrifice
I gave it to them and forgot how to take

But I still have one imaginary friend to speak to
Another child that may come tomorrow, next week, next year
That may have my eyes or my blonde braids

I tell her to take, and breathe, and create, and love only her self
And when I give birth I’ll give her a kiss good bye
As she creates her own life without me
I’ll be smiling and forget that she’s a child