In a country called childhood
where he knew he'd be king
He built a palace of sunbeams
And trained nightingales to sing...
...of stories of waterfalls
That fell into the night
And fortresses of dust-storms
of formidable heights
He guarded the valleys
With skies crotcheted like lace
But by the time his country was a republic
Children had left the place
Day 46 of 108
I have a steady amount of annoyance today. But it is par for the course . C'est la vie, as they say. But in any case, we lived one more...
2 comments:
daaaammmmmmmnnnnnnnnnnn cute .... hehehehe!!! :)
I really like this one. Reminded me of Metallica's Unforgiven.
Post a Comment