The girl next door
With the rose-red hair.
The girl next door,
Too much to bear.
When she laughs she’s a siren,
If she touches, she’s fire.
Her glance is like lightning–
I’m struck with desire.
Poetry, angst and the human condition.
The girl next door
With the rose-red hair.
The girl next door,
Too much to bear.
When she laughs she’s a siren,
If she touches, she’s fire.
Her glance is like lightning–
I’m struck with desire.