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And no one knows this Grace
Look! What a funny willow doll’s climbing on the wall...
Isn’t it crasy?
It was made of war, broken dreams, some love
And of words “may be”!
It’s just what it meant to be by the life that seems be real –
Everything’s borrowed...
Not fulfilling dream, never strugling fear
Absolutely hollowed!
Raindrop tears on its eyes...
Smiling lips that carry lies...
But it’s broken by a mind of lonely Grace
Which is walking nearby in the flying gauzy dress...
Hello
It’s me!
Look! I’m tied by a brown ribbon
To the broken heart of dying willow
That somehow became a doll...
Look! My motion is slowed down
While that doll goes dance around
And we’re all alone ... I know!
Look! The moon is so much whiter
I am sad for doll and quite for
Everything I let to happen to this world!
Look! This doll... is like a mirror
Of a Grace which is wearing willow...
It’s my part I have to show!
And no one knows this Grace
She’s hidden in the chains
Of broken doll that dance
What everyone would like to see!
And no one knows this Grace
Her dress is night, a pen’s her guide...
A doll and Grace – a blurred identity of me!
Last edited by Svetlana-S.V.D. : 09-07-2006 at 03:26 AM.
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