She was a free bird...
Her wings,she flew them to freedom...
A rhythm,she found,by the road
She thought was her's...
Her uncertainties were restricted,to
Crumbs of a stale bread...
She sang a song,off her tired wings
The mirror of an original...
She was a free bird...
She was my mockingbird.....
Her wings,she flew them to freedom...
A rhythm,she found,by the road
She thought was her's...
Her uncertainties were restricted,to
Crumbs of a stale bread...
She sang a song,off her tired wings
The mirror of an original...
She was a free bird...
She was my mockingbird.....
and she must be used to mocking mostly!..nice uncommon topic.
ReplyDelete