Cry.
She cries.
Like a willow tree,she is sad.
And lonely.
In the cold night wind is blowing.
It will take her away.
Cry.
She cries.
Like a willow tree,she is sad.
And lonely.
In the cruel world rain is falling.
It will wipe her away.
Cry.
She cries.
|
Email this Poetry
|
Add to reading list





