I'm fine, ofcourse I am,
she says to her friends.
She hates it to know,
she's a pretender, a liar.
Her friends don't know her,
it upsets her she fools them.
She wants them to be,
her real friends.
She can not blame them,
for not knowing her.
Because she's always smiling,
even when she's sad.
And even when she says:
I'm not fine at all.
She doesn't tell them why,
she's a pretender, a hider.
It's hard for her to not say
how she really feels.
It's harder to say
how she really feels.