Fire may be bright
And the flames may grow at night
But once they switch it on and off
Like a fire drill
Then the alarm comes to Blair
And we are wondering why
Because we don't see a fire of flames anywhere.
YOU ARE READING
The key to my heart or The key to my dream
PoetryWith every angle there is an Angel She glows in the night like pretty pink fireflies even though we call her a daffodil or a rose She is the butterfly that we all know She keeps her secrets lock and key but the magic our hearts is between you and...
