The Flower Child
Soul sold to the wind,
She glides across the sand,
The bohemian clothes adorn,
Bracelets clinking on her hand.
The hippie child is a beautiful being,
Writing songs for the deep, blue sea.
In her flowy dress she greets the sun,
Being who she was meant to be.
The flowers in her hair,
The surreal smiles,
Electrifying you from inside,
Her radiance guides.
The notepad and pen safe,
In the cycle's little basket,
She writes about life day to day,
Until the day in her casket.
Soul sold to the wind,
She glides across the sand,
The bohemian clothes adorn,
Bracelets clinking on her hand.
The hippie child is a beautiful being,
Writing songs for the deep, blue sea.
In her flowy dress she greets the sun,
Being who she was meant to be.
The flowers in her hair,
The surreal smiles,
Electrifying you from inside,
Her radiance guides.
The notepad and pen safe,
In the cycle's little basket,
She writes about life day to day,
Until the day in her casket.
What you want me to comment ? :S I'm outta words as usual. Sorry! Boredom now typing 'Nice/awesome/blahblah' :P
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