Little lullaby here.
Little lullaby there.
What's the difference?
One's about death.
"Rock a by baby in the tree top when the wind blows the cradle will rock."
Funny how parents around the world sing that every night, isn't it?
"Twinkle twinkle Little Star how I wonder where you are."
Please don't wonder where I am, you'll have nightmares, mother.
It's a wonderful world isn't it?
You don't even know what's going on through your beloved's head, and by all means, have no clue what's all over her thighs.
Why won't she go swimming? Says it's boring?
She didn't think so when she went everyday.
She didn't think so when she was a champion at swimming, even the fastest.
What changed? How did it change all of a sudden.
"Are you, are you coming to the tree?
They strung up a man.
They say who murdered three."
Strange things have happened here. No stranger would they be. If we met at mid night.
In
The
Hanging
Tree.
YOU ARE READING
Broken Wings
Poetry'For someone so small you're pretty strong. For someone so brave you're pretty shy. For someone so observant you're pretty abnormal.' For someone like me it's pretty hard to decide who I wanna be or where I want to fit in. So this isn't exactly poet...
