The Bell Tower

A Poem by terriblerosey

About an angry Russian girl

What happened to you in your past
Some luxuries just never last
You yell and cry so bitterly
An old mean hag for all to see
Yet o’ so young and poorly built
What life was there to simply wilt
You travel far in little time
Tuning songs that do not rhyme
Bones go brittle and eyes get sore
Yet there’s still room for so much more
It’s good to cry and fine to sing
But please don’t scream while we’re weeping
Just tell the fables of our land
Brings a good ol’ helping hand
Because there’s a man up in the sky
He’ll end the pain and watch you die