Beneath the low-lit summer sky
A tree stood on a hill
You kept on wishing you could fly
But remained quite still
You did believe that you would die
Sometime not far from now
So you just stood there, you did not lie
Wishing it was not now
Beneath you life was passing by
Nobody seemed to care
About the boy that would soon die
Simply…due to a dare
Thursday, 2 July 2009
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