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.