Peter

I was named after a saint,
But I was born the fairy-boy.
The boy who never grew up.
My parents lost me one day,
So I lived alone in Kensington Gardens.
My heart was born from a bird,
I could never be afraid of anything.
I tend to the lost souls of the world,
But I still live here alone,
In a world of fairies with no voices,
I could wish for a wife or a mother,
Somewhere outside of locked windows,
With your kiss on my chest,

My soul can still fly alone.