Gold jacket with a torn and tattered tie.
I gotta know how i’m supposed to fix this write.
Mean stares from all forty-six I’s.
Smile if you wanna live for that reason you buried underneath pages of ink.
Blue and black pens galore.
If only you could verbalize what you never could before.
I want to live.
What I’m writing is what my heart has in store.
Статистика страницы на pesni.guru ▼
Просмотров сегодня: 2