Trixie
You met me four years ago, Trixie
The wind always blows the black hair that changes frequently
A loud clatter in this threatening space
Your bones never hesitate to not stop standing
When we were sixteen it was hard, Trixie
Why is your life always involved in all the problems?
Don't you run looking for scattered happiness?
Your body has ensconced under the umbrella of forgiveness
Nineteen is going to be a pretty age, Trixie
That's what people think who lives without the twists of adversity
I ran up the stairs near the balcony in broken tears
Everyone cursed me in the cloudless noon sky
And only you are my witness when the world tries to knock me down
Maybe someday we'll grow old, Trixie
But our hearts will never shrivel dry
When you grow up, you will meet a pile of happiness
I always stand here waiting for those times
You will constantly to keep all wishing cards from me
And I'm the only one the witness to all the memories of your life
YOU ARE READING
The First Knight [END]
PoetryThe past that is permeated in the recesses of the soul need not be forgotten. Remember and carve beautifully with the dust of the flying fire. Love may come, but all you know is pain. Your little soul is incapable of accepting the reality that is in...
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