Why would my middle school-age daughter ask me to be extra nice to the snear girl? What made this girl so angry? What happens when you get past your stories about someone and ask questions?
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In My Imagination, by The Blankie/Carrie
In my imagination you would never be there for me
I stir up my aggravation which is not really how I want me to be
I make up my stories they’re not even true
It never occurs to simply ask you
In my imagination you would never be there for me
Get over my hesitation; I’ll ask you instead and then we will see.
You’ll do what you do and then I will know
I’ll take it from there Your colors you’ll show
In my imagination I wonder if you would be there for me
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