I'M Maple Grey
I'm Maple Grey
I'm winged prey
with leaves of mine I think I'm poor
My crown will fall
to hurt my soul
like many hundreds of crowns before.
My leaves are red
My spring is dead
It will be back, but I can't wait
I don't know how
I'll be pleased now
for skies and my so cruel fate.
I have a dream
The sun will beam
returning leaves; I have to pray.
It will be spring
Your love will sing
And you will find your Maple Grey.
Copyright © Serge Lyrewing | Year Posted 2016
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