Where am I going?
Do you know?

If you do
can you tell me?
Because it all looks
Foggy from here

The little bird no longer flies
she sits and mourns her broken wings
her tattered feathers, faded now
will never feel the breath of spring.

She sings now for the life she lost
a silent sweet lament
such sad refrain, if heard aloud
would break the hearts of men

The little bird falls quiet now,
Her end is drawing near
and not a single soul will know
that she was ever here.

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Love is in the air
It's Valentine's Day
The day Saint Valentine
lost his life

I Loved her!
He drugged her!
He stamped all over her!



He killed her.
R.I.P sweetheart ❤❤

She lied there that day. All I now picture, is blood stains from unwanted needle work, and eyes redly diluted from sufferd pain.

She starved herself that day!
Not from food!
But Hypoxia. ❤❤