It is so cold on the outside there,
she is lonely, with none to care.
I wish I could keep her warm,
and return to the folds of her arm.
She told she would die one day,
and I remember it with a sigh.
I could have spend some time more,
when she needed - happy days before.
Maybe she knew her days were near,
but her eyes never showed fear.
Lonely sometimes she may have cried,
hiding her tears - she may have tried...
Prasenjit©1997-2013
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