A little bit of weed to make me high
A roll of cigarette to chill me out
An iced, cold beer to forget all my problems
Then there's you
Making me remember everything again.
YOU ARE READING
Naive Girl
PoesíaSitting on the bench Thinking about what we used to be And hopelessly imagining What we could have been Completed.
Addiction
A little bit of weed to make me high
A roll of cigarette to chill me out
An iced, cold beer to forget all my problems
Then there's you
Making me remember everything again.
