Why do I even wonder
when everytime you say you love me
For you Im beutifull
and always will be,
but the world is mean
and they dont care
they will always say
what hurts the most
let my scars prove it to you
and my poor heart hurt

I try to do my best to please them
but even when I try the most
It always seem like imposible
and I convince my self
that beauty comes from within
but so insecure I fell
and let my scars tell you
how horrible they see me
for Im not the princess
not the one you say I am.

And so I sit
in my wannabe golden chair
waiting for some part of me to react
to such horrible life
but I just wait for the rain to fall
so nobody can see me cry
and let the water wash
the blood from my harms
to the floor
where flowers will turn red
and acompany me in my grief
for a thousand years to come
till I see you again
till I feel you again
till we can remember the good times
we had together
because to you
I will always be
the Princess in the silver dress… FARC


Un comentario en “Grief”

  1. No se si te lo dije, siempre me gusto apesar de lo melancolico y nefasto que suele escucharse, laverdad si, no todos te veran como una princesa aunque seas u.leonel


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