She's dancing in a circle
Dressed in red and gold
Bright colours to distract the eyes
So no one sees her face
The moves are full of grace
And joyful at a glance
But looking closer slowly dawns
The horror of the scene
The ground is strewn with thorns
Her feet cut to the bone
And all around her body
Winds a ribbon razor sharp
The red upon her gown is blood
Her face shines bright with tears
She's trapped within the circle
To dance forever more
I have been a parent now for nearly ten years, and I have always thought what a blessing it is that those two precious souls were commended to my care. Infants are entirely dependent upon their parents for both their physical and emotional needs, and even as they grow older, children continue to need much nurturing and guidance. The gravity of this responsibility of it is rarely far from my thoughts. It is so overwhelming and obvious a responsibility that until a few days ago, I never once considered the reverse: that on the spiritual level the relationship between parent and child is entirely rever
How many years had it been sinse she sat in this chair.
A lot, she knew that for sure.
The last time she had been here he had been there with her.
She felt a light tap on her shoulder; big brown eyes stared down into her nervous blue ones.
Hello, uh, you mind if I sit next to you?
No, no I dont mind. She smiled Who are you?
I am Trevor, who are you?
They talked; it was both their first time auditioning. They actually went to the same acting school, some of the same classes as well. They had never noticed each other though, and they were both surprised. Each
Every time I look at your picture;
I can't believe how beautiful you are.
Every time I think about your eyes, I feel so distant from the world I'm eternity stuck in.
Every time I feel your touch against my hollow soul, a part of me dies, falling to the wind.
Stuck in a tunnel of pain. Every time you talk,
I simply slip away, lost in your words and meaning.
This never ending feeling, falling at your feet.
Every time I see your face, your legs,
wrists, arms or hair, my life seems to change forever again.
I wash away the tears and your voice comes creeping in, smashing my face against the truth,
I wish I didn't know the truth,
Don McLean / Vincent ( Starry Starry Night )
It's completely unique in pop music, a truly inspired "appreciation" of artist Vincent Van Gogh. Don McLean is a master at making taking eccentric little realities and making them mainstream. This song is second only to American Pie, in it's popularity, and it never ceases to be a song of awesome sentimental power. He casts Vincent as an immensely sympathetic character, who is worthy of our love and our admiration, even though perhaps the words go a bit too far in equating Van Gogh's suicide with that of fictitious lovers in turmoil. Still..wh