Our eyes are window to the soul
Our hearts, alive with passion, we need to mould
From pieces of broken hearts, melted to whole
A piece by piece, we need to release
That memory which keeps our eyes shut
Locked up from the rest of the world
We are prisoners from our past;
The wilted flower will not grow,
New seeds need to be sowed....
Now, tear storms hit the panes
When it ends, all survivors see is a rainbow.
- Cynthia C.
December 2, 2003
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