A fire raged in the darkness that resembled a postcard sent from hell
It was destroying the once beautiful vision that was the old town Carousel
Large striking white horses that in the past stood like angels in the night
Were all now fiercely burning as they cast an eerie sight
The smell of the charred wood and the plume of ash in the air
Left a tearjerking memory to the workers on the fair
A disturbing insight into mindlessness certain people possess
The flames rose in the air caused by those who couldn’t care less
Blistering heat was getting stronger with every hour that past
The sounds of loud sirens finally filled the air at last
Gone was the wonderful paintwork resembling times gone by
Now there were black patches that made the ancients cry
What now for the old Carousel?
With so many stories yet to tell

She's the type of girl,
Who speaks in ink on paper,
Every word a string she twirls
around in lines of endless forever;

She's the type of girl,
Whose gestures are speech,
Her ****** expressions a tell-tale
sign of her being out of reach;

She's the type of girl,
With lips pursed tight,
A hint of smile in one corner
and a kiss hidden in plain sight;

She's the type of girl,
Who wears her heart on her sleeves,
Her soul laid bare for the world
to see as she continues to give;

She's the type of girl,
Who loves with all her might,
Despite the broken pieces
she constantly tries to clumsily fix.

@byizn