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[C:185523]

She was so covered with glory,
it seemed so fake.
She wore an immortal smile,
and it made her look so pale.

But they did not realize.
They did not understand.
And after a not so long time,
it all started to come out:

"I'm so weak,
so sad,
so lonely,
so mad"

She sang under the rain,
while the cars passed by,
all looking at her,
she was strange, in excess.

And when that door opened,
she feared for a while.
And then she decided
that it was worth the try.

And all her music sounded
in every station.
And she was being read
all around the world.
And her paintings were found
and turned into reliques.

But she was still wondering,
very, very deep..
"Why is it..
that I never got a little of Love?"

Not a tear of love was given to her.
Not a soft feather for her.
Not a warm hug for her.
Not a tear of love...

Texto agregado el 03-03-2006, y leído por 378 visitantes. (0 votos)


Lectores Opinan
15-12-2006 contrapunto my dear, contrapunto. ngie ngie
28-06-2006 She sang under the rain, while the cars passed by, all looking at her, she was strange, in excess... exellent! eXodoMeNtAL
 
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