A Rhyme for C |
Soft written for the girl so fair
With attitudes like mine,
As all the jokes fall in-between,
This poem”™s a sisters' sign.
At eve, from east-opposing coast
On late-sent winds I say,
Read even though your eyes fall tired
And soon your head must lay.
It matters not that we”™re apart,
Or that I”™m lost at sea,
Or that your hair is doubly blonde
Unlike our pedigree.
Yes it is true; you”™re adopted,
The secret files will tell””
Oh now don”™t cry, ”˜twas just a lie
To torment you so well.
See? We still laugh; it matters not
That we traverse apart:
No time can break a bloodline strong,
No space can rub our start.
So grow up, fine, I guess that”™s right,
But promise me one thing:
We”™ll still meet where the side lane ends
To have ourselves a swing.
For when days stretch and light is grey
And I am cast aside,
I”™ll walk that lane with my last dream,
I'll race you to the slide.
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