She is like the waves which keeps hitting the shore
Sometimes hard some times gentle
She is seldom erroneous seldom assertive often tore
Like a little angel who ******.

Who would not love such a soul? I wonder
Who would not  be the shore
When i hold her close and  snuggle, i ponder
Why does the shore scour.


I forage for answers in vain and in pain
For what i know is not what i want to believe
For i am scared and the angel she'd kiss me
I crumble inside as she caress my hair.