 |
| Pass Her By |
| Wind comb hair In the moonlight I stare Was a soft breeze That took my nose to tease Not heaven sent But man made scent Was it a chance to be In this place Her and me I think it was Only a dream And never meant to be But yet I wonder To this I'm under Why this place And why this time I'm not ready yet My legs are not steady No face of mine To say words that rhyme But I stand still Only my desire An imperfection. ~Casper~ |
 |
 |