Sunday, April 30, 2017

Shell

I told him I am like a snail
Slow-moving and with a hard shell
That keeps me from withering 
At any sign of harm

He said he disagrees;
I am not a snail but an oyster
That underneath my shell is a perfect pearl
And I would never need to move

For he would always find me.

I wonder if you'll really wait
Wait for me, my darling
One day I'll give you everything.

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