lemme rewrite my poem here the candle is dim, the batteries are dying , times running out, and soon we'll be flying.
flying over fields or sea, on the night and the day, wont you come fly with me, dont you dare be afraid.
the light through my window, it shines bright enough, it isnt the moon though, its the streetlights - not tough.
the candle gets dimmer, the quote on the wall, our lives, they get thinner, as we… Read more