Pass

Beauty dies when words fail.

Lifes disguise of what is frail.

Fight so hard, I was not stale.

Memories fleeting, does not prevail.

I'm a girl or lurid tale.

My singing song of my lifes trail.

Scary black and dark in dale,

I'm just a woman on distant rail.

Trains grow nigh and so I bail.

Planes fly in present grail.

Nights were long and scared my scale,

of length in time to empty pail.

Where does this run, it's like the Qwail.

Low to the ground and hits the nail.

Heads will grow until you Yale.

Then it will be pass or fail.

(Instantly, I am a snail)

K.A.P.

5/15/2009