Rotten times

A poem-song or song-poem I wrote some years ago, when a little, tiny lady called Crisis was just opening the door to a new reality.

Hints of fear, the fear of being wrong.

Shadowed tears, which tell you you're too strong.

Troubling eyes with fear to be forgotten.

Rotten times, I've never followed patterns.

He who fears to suffer, suffers fear,

Feeling stage fright when mirroring his tears,

Scared to death that he may be forgotten.

Rotten times, I've never followed patterns.

Frightened fear, can't tell me I'm afraid.

I've  found my path, I know it's not too late.

Fought my fights to never be forgotten.

New born dreams will never follow patterns.

Elena Salajan 2009