A drop of dewWaiting for her morn, to a night she was born. She rose from a rose then tripped o'er a thorn. Ready to shine all bright and new. Only to drop, like a drop of dew. Into a million pieces her dreams shattered. Mixed in mud all bruised and battered. Laying there still, she won't open her eyes. Hanging on a hope that someday she'll rise. Her pain won't leak, not once in a while. Hiding it all, beneath her gorgeous smile. She is an actress and life is her stage. I admire her courage it grows with her age. But sometimes I wish, if only she would try. Her life would be easy, only if she could cry. She could count herself among those strongest few. If she could let a tear drop, like a drop of dew |