Our broken music box.
After the winter ended
I missed the snowflakes.
The sun shined upon the flowers more than ever,
but the cold stayed here, maybe... snow flowers;
in a cold spring, the leaves fall too soon.
I walked towards the park next to my house
where we buried a dream under the shadows of an old tree;
I dug and dug into the ground,
the broken music box
and the little ballerina with her pink tutu
were still at the bottom of some broken hearts.
It was your prized dream and I hid it from you.
It was my game to get your attention but I broke it accidentally,
Just like I broke you into small pieces.
I buried the broken music box, but I couldn't bury you.
I liked to imagine things, so a story about the ballerina
with her pink tutu was born;
She danced on a floor covered with pink petals from an unknown flower
she danced all alone, nobody caught her when she fell, all the pink petals blew away
and she stopped to dance until a sad afternoon when the sunset didn't come out.
A prince from a distant dream took her hand and invited her to dance
and she danced again on a floor covered with pink petals from an unknown flower
she danced with him until dark and the pink petals blew away and the goodbye was a kiss
their lips touched each other,
Somebody whispered "love" time and again.
Now, I think, no matter how you bury the dreams
they.. Don't die.
thank you for helping me with this poem :)