It always seems like what u saw, was never there at all.
In a beautiful garden, with only weeds that grown.
U hear voice, but it was just the wind.
U find empty space, and now ur trespassing.
Happiness, only a step away, but in which direction none will say.
So solitude is where u make ur bed, upon partick thistle, thorns bury ur head.
But bold and wise is the man of the meek,
One day my child someone will hear you speak,
Written By Stefan Cardoza (Dad)
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Facts Of Life,
PoetryFacts You Might Be Able To Relate To, Facts You Might Not Know, These Are The Facts Of Life
