Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Rebecca Watling Nov 2011
I've always wanted
to soar over the clouds

I've been told it's impossible
but unless I dream
unless I try

I'll never know how far I'll fly
Rebecca Watling Nov 2011
Au café je m'assieds
Et bois lentement une tasse de thé,
Laisse la boisson chaude me chauffer.
À travers la fenêtre, je regarde la pluie.
Puis, je te vois de l'autre côté de la rue,
Mais tu ne me vois pas—  
Pas encore de toute façon—
Caché de la pluie qui tombe à verse
Dans ton imperméable.
Mais je ne supporte pas ça encore,
Et je cours dehors vers toi.
Tu me vois enfin,
Et viens me rencontrer à mi-chemin.
Au milieu de la rue,
Nous nous embrassons.
Tout souci de la pluie
Emporté par une vague d'émotion.
Et comme le ciel verse son âme pour la terre,
Ainsi je verserai mon âme pour toi,
Mon amour.
Translation:

As I'm sitting in a café
I slowly drink a cup of tea,
Allowing the hot drink to warm me.
Through the window, I watch the rain.
Then I see you across the way,
But you don't see me—
Not yet anyway—
Hidden in your raincoat
From the pouring rain.
But I can't take it any longer,
And I run outside to you.
You see me at last,
And come to meet me halfway.
In the middle of the street,
We embrace.
All concern of the rain
Washed away by a wave of emotion.
And as the sky is pouring out its soul for the earth,
So I will pour out my soul for you,
My love.
Rebecca Watling Nov 2011
The world's not painted black and white
But different shades of grey
Though when placed onto the spectrum
You and I are far away

Instead of towards the centre
Or at least on the same side
Almost on opposing ends
Is where we do reside

I'm more towards the black side
You're more towards the light
I fade into the darkness
You're shining in the light

To compare/contrast us side by side
One would quickly see
The many ways in which you and I
Are different as can be

But despite all this there are some ways
In which we are the same
And though numbered and less frequent
From them our friendship came

One never would've guessed
That we'd become a pair
With me at my end if the spectrum
And you way over there

The chances of this happening
Were always very slim
The odds were never on our side
The likelihood quite grim

But this just goes to show
The twisted chess game Fate does play
Mixing black with white and white with black
Making shades of grey.

— The End —