About a man who'se lost a loved one, but imagines her to be alive in something else.


My baby, I

My baby's sitting in a chair
Looks at me with a sweet stare
Her soul is stripped and she is bare
Her eyes show through

Even though the day is rough
The sun is bright, I've quite enough
My baby, I, and our sweet love
Is shining through

My baby, I
My baby, I

In the past, the silent tale
About this coming on our trail
To our doorstep in the mail
It's all for you

If we guard her from the snow
And the aggravated crow
Then my baby, I, she'll grow
And I love you





Poetry by weirdzarun
Read 406 times
Written on 2006-11-24 at 17:21

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A.S.V
very good job.
2006-11-27