Tuesday, 25 October 2016

With you.

When the wind will kiss your face,
Your hair will fly in grace.
The merry-go-round of thoughts
Will jump from place to place,
I’ll be wandering, with you.

When sky will darken with storm,
Paper-boats will be crushed and torn,
The rail of cold will blow with full horn
You’ll need a shoulder to lie on,
I’ll be frightened, with you.

When the sun will finally smile,
Birds will chirp, tears will dry,
Dust will be washed from a pile,
You’ll get up and again you’ll try
To walk on the aisle,
I’ll be brave, with you.

And when the leaves will turn yellow
Skin will turn gray and smiles mellow,
When you’ll lose all your glow,
I’ll grow old, with you.

Will you?

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