Grace knows the story, not just the sound,
Not just the songs that lift the room,
She knows the girl they laughed away,
Before the sky ever made her brave.
A green-skinned child with an open heart,
Too honest, too loud, right from the start,
They called her strange, they closed their doors,
But Grace knows pain like that before.
Because sometimes doing what is right
Costs you friends and quiet nights,
Sometimes truth makes people turn,
Sometimes love is hard to learn.
And then she meets the golden smile,
The shiny girl, the perfect life,
Two opposite worlds, one fragile thread,
A promise neither of them said.
Grace sees how kindness starts so small,
A hand held tight inside it all,
How friendship bends, how stories break,
How good and bad are hard to name.
The crowd believes what power says,
The loudest voice becomes the end,
But Grace knows heroes don’t always win
When honesty walks quietly in.
She knows the moment you must choose
To keep your truth — or keep your place,
To lose the crowd, to save your soul,
To rise alone into your fate.
She doesn’t watch a girl turn brave,
She feels it happening inside Grace.
Different isn’t something to hide,
It’s how the broken learn to fly.
Not good or wicked.
Not black or white.
Just tender hearts in borrowed light.
A lonely girl who dared to stand —
Grace understands.
And that is why her eyes still shine
When the curtain falls and hands applaud,
Because she saw herself up there
In every girl who wouldn’t pretend.
She doesn’t love the glittered thing,
Or only how the high notes ring.
Grace loves the truth beneath the wings.
She loves the story.
She loves the pain.
She loves the friend you couldn’t save.
She loves the girl who stood apart…
Grace loves the whole brave, broken heart.
Michael Forty