27 noviembre 2009

hope '

She's got a smile that it seems to me, reminds me of childhood memories.
Where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky.
Now and then when I see her face she takes me away to that special place, and if I stared too long I'd probably break down and cry.
Sweet child o' mine.
Sweet love of mine.

She's got eyes of the bluest skies, as if they thought of rain.
I hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain.
Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place where as a child.

I'd hide and pray for the thunder. And the rain, to quietly pass me by.

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Tell me baby; what's your story?