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Tiny figertips, on the paino keys
purple bruises on her bended knees
trembling vision, of a child's dreams
and as she sings the words,
her feet are dangeling
she plays the music now,
she plays it soft and slow
'cause there's so much she doesn't know
She plays with innocence,
that she'll someday forget
and life goes on and on.
little wanderer, oh what have you done?
you want to touch a star,
but you got sidetracked by the sun
and every waking hour,
there's something on your mind,
a precious memory,
that you'll never ever find
she plays the music now, she sings it with such rage
'cause all the world is just a stage
she plays the music strong
even though she knows she's wrong and
life goes on and on
she cries in the shadows and dances in the sun,
spins round and round and comes undone
tiny teardrops, stream down her grown up face
and all her thougths and hopes and fears
and things that time cannot erase.
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my poem
April 21, 2006 @ 03:51:28 pm
