Crayons Are The Smell Of ChildhoodA Poem by NessaI miss those days...The creak of the chain The rhythm of the wind through the trees Memories of the past replace the pain Hearts are harder to fix than skinned knees.
Hand in hand The pebbles between our toes Barefoot in the sand. We'll set off to the place that no one knows.
Higher and higher This love's spreading like fire Keep swinging, keep swinging Can't you hear the ringing? Of the silver bells in the distance.
The rust under my fingertips The cold wood I'm sitting on. The static from our lips Could last till dawn.
Don't be afraid, just let go Sun in your eyes, glistening with tears Shake the ground of the earth below. Who ever knew the past was so near.
Higher and higher This love's spreading like fire Keep swinging, keeping swinging Can't you hear the ringing? Of your knee shaking voice.
Let's sit in the sand box With the old acoustic guitar Sing me "our song" that we heard on those late night walks. Leave in me a permanent scar.
So, higher, and higher This love is spreading like fire. Keep swinging and swinging Can't you hear the ringing? Of the funeral bells. © 2008 NessaAuthor's Note
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Added on February 20, 2008Last Updated on February 20, 2008 |