I spring to life some mournings,
only to feel a hint of a warning.
In the cool crispness of the air,
life and death are never fair.
With some passion in my pocket
and a sprinkle of time in a locket.
A suitcase of care, a bag full of fears,
home grown doubt watered by tears.
I spring to life on certain mournings,
only to feel a touch of the warning.
In the cool dampness of the air,
that death and life are never fair...
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 1:31 PM UTC
I spring to life some mournings,
only to feel a hint of a warning.
In the cool crispness of the air,
life and death are never fair.
With some passion in my pocket
and a sprinkle of time in a locket.
A suitcase of care, a bag full of fears,
home grown doubt watered by tears.
I spring to life on certain mournings,
only to feel a touch of the warning.
In the cool dampness of the air,
that death and life are never fair...
