That mischievous sprite
Those familiar frolics
Good news today
But alas,
She just couldn’t bother
She must leave today with all her might.
She breathes steadily and put on her worn out socks
That mischievous sprite
Those familiar frolics
Good news today
But alas,
She just couldn’t bother
She must leave today with all her might.
She breathes steadily and put on her worn out socks
Today is strange
She ambles onto the wet floor
Crumple feet, she kicks the red bucket
Slimy feet, she curses the cook who will be late tonight
Those little things...
Lead her to her make-believe world.
How could she be so somnolent?
And barely sees anything
Not any longer...
And until now, she still speculates...
Where did those little things left?
Paralyzed
Of working too hard for it
Of hoping too much of it
Of being restive without it
Phony
There’s no such thing as that
Fright is what portrays you certainly
Fright of lost and lone
I know
I feel it as well