[U][COLOR="Cyan"]Her Story[/COLOR][/U]
She was Thirteen
She was saving grace
She got to ride her first
Bike.
She thought it was great.
Now she is run
Run from the ones
Who harmed her.
She is riding a lovely Motorcycle.
No one really knows her
But she stays to herself.
Why does she like to be alone?
Does it make it easier to run.
Let this be free.
She has always known
She is a Biker
Her name is Biker
Let me tell you a little secret
She loves everything but she
Is mute.
Yes,
She can not talk. she doesn't know how.
No one realized this but she is one good
friend.
Biker
Where have you been?
Biker
Why are you always running?
Let me know when you want
to listen
to my story about you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I walk Through the valley of
Death and hear nothing at all
I walk up the Highway
Going home and see life
I am going home, sweet home
There is no place for me here.
Let me be free
It is hard to walk
After you learn to fly.
Nice and at ease
Is the best Things
that i wait for.
I think the silence of the
World to be at peace is
A verry hard thing to do.
we are always at war.
We don't know why
Or to live any other way.
Change is hard as well.
It is like Putting sugar in
A bleeding cut.
Or superglue on a soda
can and giving it to your friend.
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