Not like a cloud, snowflake or dove
But to float on the breeze like the wind’s last love
All the little people stop to look and stare
Soft little faces and pretty little hair
Eyes cruelly squinted against the sun’s evil glare
What do they see, but a girl without a care?
The air will be my wings
Every gale a bird who sings
Of tragic affections and ephemeral things.
Check my dA, comments and favorites. <3
http://theoriginaleeyore.deviantart.com/