An original poem by me.
Up through the trees on the swing she will fly,
her worn out bare feet touching the sky.
Wondering how it was a practical lie,
she dries one last tear drop from her eye.
Pondering life and the reason why,
all of us one day will be there to die.
Filling our minds with the will to try,
Lying down our swords with a hopeless sigh.
Only to good words will we reply,
Why is it happy thing still make us cry?
You are the one on which I rely,
Until we reach the day where I say goodbye.
I will weep but I will still testify,
My song I will never modify.
I sang a sweet tune to by butterfly,
then laid to rest and to satisfy.
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