sofiabengtsson

written by Mearii



There was a girl with lively eyes
Who wished one day she would be wise,
But in her searching for the truth
Was disillusioned in her youth.
Though innocence, she held it still
Where framed upon her window sill
She'd sit for hours, pen in hand,
And write her heart to Neverland.

"Dear Peter Pan," she wrote one day,
"Oh won't you come take me away?
'Cause growing up's not what I planned,
Please fly me off to Neverland."



"I still recall that day of rain,
I heard you tap my window pane.
So I looked out, but in despair
Discovered you no longer there.
I did not fall for it, you see,
I know about your trickery.
I sat down by my window sill
and I will wait right here, until
You come for me to take my hand
And lead the way to Neverland."

With tiny head full to the brim
Of every childish wish and whim
She wrote a letter ev'ry night
That dripped with fanciful delight,
Then set it by her rocking chair
And by sunrise, it'd not be there.
She tried so long to perservere
But Peter Pan would not appear.



"Good Peter Pan," she wrote again,
"They think that I have gone insane,
But, by my heart, I guarantee
I heard you calling out to me.
The days; they may be growing long,
But someday I will prove them wrong.
You are real, I know it's true.
My mother used to speak of you.
Though Death done her in, I forgive.
She may be gone, but you still live.
Oh, how I wish you'd understand
I want to see your Neverland."

Oh, lonely girl with fingers tensely
Clutched about her innocence
She lost all will of growing wise.
For she refused to realize
Though ignorance may be sublime,
You cannot turn your back on time.



"Oh Peter Pan," she wrote once more,
"It's your arrival I implore.
I'm tired of this waiting game.
The years go by, and it's a shame
I fear what may become of me.
I'm sure you're likely to agree,
So steal me from my house tonight
And fly me second to the right.
Teach me to think happy things
I'm like a bird without its wings
And more than I can even stand
I want to see your Neverland."

No one knows what did occur,
But Peter never came for her,
For one cold night she caught a chill
While waiting by her window sill.
So there she withered on her throne
And with a shiver, died alone.



A worn out stone now marks the shore
Of where she sleeps forevermore.
But one day when the tide was high,
There came a boy to say good-bye.
He took one look, then bowed his head
With great remorse, and sadly said,
"I'm sorry that I came too late.
I didn't mean to make you wait."
And with that said on her behalf,
He wrote for her an epitaph
That still is etched into the sand:
"Forever into Neverland."

I need you to understand—you are my North star. My touchstone. The origin from which I run.
Ultimately, I am always journeying back to you.