I often wonder why,
good memories make me cry.
Like raindrops lost in time,
frozen tears with little shine.
Salty lips of bitter taste.
This is where it comes and rests
With a prancing of the tongue,
I hold it back before its sung.
As it trickles down my heart,
until death do us apart.
I hope I never die
good memories make me cry.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Butterfly
Merry!!! a rainbow sings,
As a drop of red trickled down,
my blue eyes pranced upon
and ripped its fragile wings
I looked away, not to see
Help! It made a sound,
still writhing on the ground
Pick me up and set me free
I placed it on the window sill
I prayed so my sins absolve
the the fairies heard my call
And the rainbow flew atop the hill
As a drop of red trickled down,
my blue eyes pranced upon
and ripped its fragile wings
I looked away, not to see
Help! It made a sound,
still writhing on the ground
Pick me up and set me free
I placed it on the window sill
I prayed so my sins absolve
the the fairies heard my call
And the rainbow flew atop the hill
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