An evening in the park
Full with crowd
Old scars  from broken hearts


One day

Bleach my hair blonde
Lit them fiery orange
No need for silver ash or grey toner
Burn bright alongside my anger
No need to feel strange
Weird – That how I was born

After nine

Take a glass of wine,
for dinner just fine but we could have a little fun
baring all out into space filling the sky with our doubts
sharing those never healed scars and broken hearts of ours
before the film rolls projecting the never forgotten memories
showing how it all fall apart and leaves us in tears.