A hand reaching into the cage,A hand reaching into the cage, pulls me out placing me upon the page.Under my feet are words, telling my story.Walking along pages, you turn them as I go.I smiled upward, letting my feet carry me along the book in which you've placed me.I spin in circles along the beggining of each chapter.The story continues, but the pages grow frayed and some even torn.I trip over the tear in one of the pages, looking up I am concerned.You smiled and assure me to keep on going. I nod.I know what I must do.I stand up once more, and I walk. I step over the tears, I am careful over the frays.I am soon exhausted, but you encourage me to press on.I beg to you, "I can't."But I can't isn't good enough for you.You pick me up, and hold me as you continue to turn the pages and I rest within your hand.When I wake I am in bright, fresh pages again. And I am placed upon the book.I know you will always be there to encourage me on to the next chapter, and I know you will carry me through and keep fli
All dreams die.All dreams die.They fall away like old paint on a frame.And in that frame is you, or me.And when our dreams fade, our frame becames tattered.It’s never the same and never are we, we’re just a dusty portait of what used to be glorious and free.
The girl who fell down the rabbit hole....Spinning and spinning, my life from now to beggining is gaining on me.Running, I'm running, from something, from something, I cannot hide.Then I fall, fall, fall, down the rabbit hole in my soul.Pianos and book shelves, tea time, and doormouse, I cannot help but fall in love with my misery.Complacency in the depths of this sea.I grow so tired of fighting the endless road.Keep turning the pages, and watch my story unfold,The girl who fell down the rabbit hole and never grew old.I laid on your windowsill, listening to the stories you told about me.I grimaced and curled up as I heard that you doubted me.I didn't know how to feel. I didn't know if I was even real to you…or if I was the girl you never knew.Pixie dust on us has turned into red rusting on our wings.We try to replace all the love that we've lost with hopeless things.We lose all our happy thoughts to the pirates who clip our wings, and forget our songs yeah we forget how to sing.But that's alright, the stories not