April 9, 2009
By Antonia Chandler GOLD, Lake Forest Park, Washington
Antonia Chandler GOLD, Lake Forest Park, Washington
17 articles 0 photos 2 comments

In all the dreams we dream there are saints and there are sinners,
there are reasons to be lost and to be found,
All the wishes we have hoped for or the things we don’t deserve,
our broken souls will go falling to the ground.

A flower can lose it’s petals, in the freezing cold of winter,
and bloom as beautiful as ever in the spring,
But a child can lose her voice in a torrent of despair,
and after that, have no desire to sing.

Sun will make a fool of those who try to dodge the rain,
but the cold wind makes a madman of the damp,
red and burning eyes can make a doubtful fall in love,
a smile can wipe misery off the map.

They say history is written by the winners, not the losers,
not the ones who fought the war without a name.
Decisions are never made by those too scared to get their way,
or people too afraid, to play the game.

A lonely bottle of vodka hopes to make it go away,
a street corner and embers of cigarettes,
In every broken life there are things you can’t remember,
and moments you try your life, to forget.

And my rose if you’re defeated, just remember me one thing,
let the angels give their round of applause.
my broken-hearted dreamer, in this night of falling hail,
there never was no how, or why, or because.

In everything we have there are mysteries, there are secrets,
there are things we have to leave, unexplained,
but one thing I do know, as certain as the stars,
my love for you will always stay the same.

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