poem thingy...
here stands a girl
with brown hair, brown eyes
standing here
in an angel disguise
her wings, made of feather
her hair, in a bun
her eyes twinkle slightly
in the midmorning sun
her touch, quite gental
her eyes, so soft
her hair, smells diffrent
like a summer day loft
she's diffrent from others
she's not quite the same
her spirit is wild
but her body seems tame
the air, its tingly
and whiped with a breeze
the trees are swaying
and loosing their leaves
she strolls down the lane
her way appears lost
she seems quite confused
this happens a lot
angel inside me
let me be free
I have lost my way
come look and you'll see
she chants this with memory
of childhood years
when she used to believed
these lines were the cure
they could cure cuts
and bruises and fears
they could cure souls
of spirits who neared
but that was all yesterday
few years before
when I was a child
nothing much more
blah...no i didnt write this...i dont know who did...