nonsense in my mind
We try to fly past the white hall
in the castle where hurt is queen
buzzles and cries is her reign
towards the twilight
we move in quiet moods
and through the looking glass
freed from burdens
the setting sun our friend
we not young anymore
as dreams dance
down memory lane
and still I am waiting
for your hand in mine
Poetry by kath
Read 448 times
Written on 2007-03-06 at 19:10
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