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mom poem

a escuridão rola para cima
o ar está cheio do alvorecer e da mola
um poeta, fazendo exame do breio fora de sua lingüeta
meu sorrow, quando for aqui com mim
o mistério o mais escuro, o mais estranho
paredes e enorme elevados
mas alas, sonhos justos
tropeçando acima, caindo para baixo
e meu nome é truthful
os dias hypocritic
eu ouvi o vento o dia inteiro
desde que, se você estiver por meu lado hoje
agora para uma luta viva e cheerful
eu fiz um voto uma vez, um somente

 



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