Wednesday, January 30, 2008


The girl has daisies in her eyes.
And a smile made of sugar.
Shes not aware of how rotten our world is.
Shes got cheeks as pink as a sunset.
And hair as brilliant as the sun.
She prances around barefoot like everyone is pure.
I had a dream where a horrid man reminded me...
"not all people are good people..."
How is it that even in my sleep I seek out those who need help?
I just want to scream that I will fix you.
All of you.
But who will fix me?

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