Do not take away my dreams
Do not stop my screams
I have a desired to live
I have something to give
A rosy, myrtle way
The word I want to say
But murmur’s been chilled
Just hope is still there
Relax, sit and share
Some moments of joy
The way rare! Why?
This ‘why’ makes me cry?
And compels me to look at the sky
Close the eyes and pray
If only I was not clay
However, the minds think
But the eyes do blink
And see what is ahead
And hear what is said
