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Kiss
If death were to kiss me under the willow tree,
I would ask for my freedom.
The little girl inside wants to know,
If the flowers continue to grow,
When the pain is over and the memories remain,
Was she right to dream?
Did she plant her seeds with innocent kindness?
Or should she have known better,
Than to try.
Please help me, she would cry.
© watchingthedarkness
I would ask for my freedom.
The little girl inside wants to know,
If the flowers continue to grow,
When the pain is over and the memories remain,
Was she right to dream?
Did she plant her seeds with innocent kindness?
Or should she have known better,
Than to try.
Please help me, she would cry.
© watchingthedarkness
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