Vagrant Child
B
Bill Cantrell
0
Altın Yaprak
Morning glory,
You move me so,
In a way I can't explain
You milk the dawn,
And rightly so,
From the love in the night,
You still remain
Oh vagrant child,
You orphaned child
In a humble field, you stake your claim
Your poetry goes unsurpassed,
Your short lived life,
Seems such a shame
Oh morning glory,
I look at you,
And I see a piece of my makers mind
Though other flowers,
Are planted by hand,
By spirit it is,
Your colors shine
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş