When I was younger, my little angel told me
"You are special, you can be whatever you want to be."
When I told her "It is enough, I am tired."
She replied "You are special, you will get what you desire."
Always over my shoulder, she fluttered close by
Whether I was in the lowest of lows or in the highest of highs
"Let me brighten your day, let me be your Muse!"
But I was awful—to my old self, she was only someone to use.
Maybe I saw her as my personal Sun,
I took for granted her every "Yay, you've won!"
Perhaps she was to me just a Moon that I own
There for a "Heya" whenever I'm alone
Once she was around, now I see her no more
Nobody to cheer in my triumph or cry in loss with me anymore
Now every sky looks grey, and even gold looks like bronze
"Would you believe me if I had a little angel once?"
Now that I am older, I can quite clearly see
"I can only appreciate her sweet nothings when they are gone from me"
I say to myself, "Now all I can do is weep and pine"
"There goes she, the little angel that was once mine."
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Envie De Voyager
De TodoWanderlust: Strong longing for or impulse toward wandering (Merriam-Webster) We often think of 'wandering' as the act of going aimlessly from place to place; it is okay if you think that, you would not be wrong. To me, it means much more than just c...
