Red roses die with out water.
Love always dies without laughter.
Puppets dance on controlled strings.
Birds fly further on extended wings.
Dropping feathers as angels pass.
Floating to earth with a terrible bang.

Thinking of births deaths and marriages.
And carriage clocks, that sit on the shelf in the living room.
The one where the trust, became gloomy.
Last ditch attempts to tango at nighttime,
whenever's the right time to drop bombs made of flour,
when is the right hour?
To paint everything white, make all things alright.
She has not a clue,
she should have told you.
Is there ever a right time?
Bring on the night time.
Soon sleeping and weeping,
repairing regret.
(c) Livvi