poem

[southerner]

Wind blows ..

at the end of the day..

dragging the leaves..

sweeping them away..

like those leaves ..

was the life of fay..

that little girl..

was born in may ..

in a small village..

near that bay ..

she always draems

that she will fly..

but at the end ..

she only can cry..

you'd think she's weak..

her hair looks short..

once you see her you'll know ..

that her heart is a fort..

I'm sure that you'll notice

that her lips are always sealed ..

and her looks are deep ..

her hair's blond as a field..

BUT!never try EVER ..

to become close to her or near..

'cause when you do that you'll see the real life..

so bright and clear ..

and you may feel it ..

or be captured by .. fear..

and I'm SO sure ..

you'll never confess..

that your old life ...

is what you realy (miss