Hold fast to dreams,
For if they die,
Life is a broken wing bird,
That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreans,
For when dreams go,
Life is a barren field,
Frozen with snow.

I got flowers today. It wasn't my birthday or any special day. We had our first argument last night, and he said a lot of cruel things that really hurt me. I know he is sorry and didn't mean the things he said because  I got flowers today.

I got flowers today, it wasn't our anniversary or any other special day. Last night, he threw me into a wall and started to choke me. It seemed like a nightmare. I couldn't believe it was real. I woke up this morning sore and bruised all over. I know he must be sorry, because he sent me flowers today.

I got flowers today, it wasn't Mother's Day or any other special day. Last night, he beat me up again. It was much worse than all the other times. If I leave him, what will I do? How will I take care of the kids?  What about money? I'm afraid of him and scared to leave. But I know he must be sorry, because he sent me flowers today.

I got flowers today. Today was a very special day. Today was the day of my funeral. Last night, he finally killed me. He beat me to death. If only I gathered enough courage and strength to leave him. I would not have gotten flowers today.

Living in eternity,
While travelling through time,
The moment could be infinite,
If one were so inclined,
Moments come and go,
Yet it's like the same,
Times we shared before,
Every bit of it,
Remained in my brain,
Oh yes, of course one's little wave,
Will break upon some shoal,
The time has come my dearest friend,
We will see each other once more.

If I showed you my teardrops,
Would you collect them like rain,
Store them in jars,
That are labelled with "Pain"

Would you follow their tracks,
From my eyes down my cheeks,
As they write all their stories,
I'm too scared to speak.

Would you stop them with kisses,
Bring their flow to a halt,
As you teach me that pain,
Isn't always my fault.

Would you hold my face gently,
As you dry both my eyes,
And whisper the words,
"You're too precious to cry"

If I showed you my teardrops,
Would you show me your own,
And though we're lonely,
We were never alone.

I'm really exhausted.
No matter how many hours I sleep.
No matter how much coffee I drink.
Or rather how long I lie down on my old bunk bed.
It seems like something inside me has given up.
My soul is tired.
I'm tired.