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外链地址
http://www.eemp3.com/audiofile/1e567ef78a1b07f8ea491e79c464f91f.mp3
点击复制She writes with time not ink or pen
Each wrinkle tells of where shes been
A pot of rice a whispered song
Her silence sings where I belong
A flickering light through sleepless nights
She waits while stars retreat from heights
No lessons taught no verses read
Yet every word she lived Ive said
She never claimed to love aloud
But shaped me quiet shaped me proud
With hands that stitched my dreams in place
She drew the stars into my space
This life a book Im writing still
She is the prelude soft and still
And if I live it to the end
Ill read her name where pages bend