She’s a poor, wounded soul
you can’t make her whole
To early she’s grown old
her story would make you cold
Anxiety is what makes her tick
each day a new wall built, brick by brick
Your priviledged if she lets you in
a momentary glance of what she holds within
Cherish anything she shares willingly
but you’ll never know, her, not entirely
Planning her swan song daily
while smiling at some, gaily
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 7:21 AM UTC
She’s a poor, wounded soul
you can’t make her whole
To early she’s grown old
her story would make you cold
Anxiety is what makes her tick
each day a new wall built, brick by brick
Your priviledged if she lets you in
a momentary glance of what she holds within
Cherish anything she shares willingly
but you’ll never know, her, not entirely
Planning her swan song daily
while smiling at some, gaily