A delicate rose,  its petals pale.

Always been aside, outsider and a stranger.
And as she gaze at the horizon, all she saw was an ocean of fear.

A small island, they called it hope, appeared and disappeared.
A broken  porcelain doll, too fragile to play with
Yet too ugly to be seen as a little decoration.

The last petal fell.

And she is me, my mind and soul, my thoughts and conscious.
I stare with empty eyes, I read the words.
I want to laugh and cry, but ill deny - at any cost - that I have ever read
theses lines.

My heart goes out, Im worried sick but no, I wont say any single thing.
Because Im still a little rose.
And I am drowning in the ocean - the island is not at sight.

And Im afraid of being once again the little doll that  has been thrown away.
And I forever remain silent.

My heart wants to scream, but its my mind that's got the key to my sealed lips.