Stained Glass
Pacing uner the willow tree,
I see the pain
Reflecting off of you and me
A wall of stained glass
make up our pictures; memories.
The memories made
of just you and me
We're colorful and radient,
Only they were cracked inside.
I wish I knew
How that was to come,
But I have not the answer,
I just can't imagine.
The branches and vines
of the innocent willow,
Send messages flying
throughout the skies.
All around me
Are the vivid images
Just you and I
Growing up as innocent children.