Two ordinary flowers,
On the cold, dark floor,
One, two, three,
Wait...there's four.
Old and rusty,
But once beautiful and red,
They chose other flowers,
These soon to be dead.
But these roses were on a floor,
A designed and fancy floor,
These floors were very rich,
While these roses were sadly poor.
Until one day,
A young girl had bought these worthless flowers,
Which she put in a vase of water under the sunlight,
They'd last for hours.

I thought I spotted a rabbit,
As white as could be,
But was a mistake,
Can't you see?
It had large grey ears,
And a soft, cuddly tail,
To my surprise,
It was really pale.
He had short front paws,
And long hind legs,
He must be brought home,
He pleases, he begs!
Oh, so very smart,
Yet a pinch wise,
But I never knew here,
A hare lies.
When I charged straight to him,
He ran away,
I felt guily,
And wanted him to stay.
But...all means; I had my chance,
And I blew it,
I don't like hares now,
I have no wit.

Once there was a girl,
Who bragged all day,
She told almost everybody,
To stay, stay, stay.
Minerva played a trick,
So sneaky and clever,
She knew that Arachne,
Would never find out, never.
Arachne was surprised,
Her eyes filled with fear,
She knew danger,
Was near, near, near.
They had a contest,
With yarn and threads,
They knew who'd win,
Maybe Minerva instead.
She learned a lesson.
She'd never forget,
And maybe now,
She would regret.

Baby o' baby come home to me,
Let me cure you of your misery.
Let me help you to find your way,
Let me help you from this day.
Baby o' baby, How I sympathize for you,
How I love you, It's true.
Let me ponder about your ways,
O', the good o'l days.
Baby o' baby, how I long for you,
Baby o' baby, do not be so blue.
Let us start anew,
With o' so much to do.
Come home at last,
To never again worry about your past.
Your ways have vanished long ago,
Baby o' baby you have to go.
Baby o' baby help me to know,
That you are alright, here and fro.
Baby o' baby, come home to me,
Where you long to be cured and gracefully set free.

She doesn't know writing is my life,
She doesn't know I want to become a writer,
She doesn't know I'm trying the best I can,
She doesn't know I'm a fighter.
She doesn't know I love to sing,
She doesn't know how I feel,
She doesn't know who I am,
She doesn't know this is real.
She doesn't know I'm always tired,
She doesn't know when I have a dreadful day,
She doesn't know Who I am,
She will never know if I'm okay.

Outraged am I,
At the markings on my face,
Tiny red pimples all around,
What a disgrace!
I'm too self-conscious right now,
It manages to take over my skin,
It hurts and itches to the limit,
When will a new day begin?

She's sneeky and clever,
Who fools us all,
Tearing up our floorboards and socks,
But so dainty and small.
She begs for a dropping,
I' m not to give her a thing,
She becomes jubilant and untamed,
Hiding under our beds and chewing up our wires,
Chaos, she does bring.
Driving us up the wall,
Barking at innocent men,
She is superior above us all,
She's Sandy, till the the end.