It's scorching hot outside
And none of the clouds can at least cover its fire
There's no where to go
We're just left here to burn
In this inferno
But I guess I'm use to it
I live in it everyday
YOU ARE READING
The Never Ending Story of Complaints
PoetryIt's definitely not poetry but just my life put into words.
3
It's scorching hot outside
And none of the clouds can at least cover its fire
There's no where to go
We're just left here to burn
In this inferno
But I guess I'm use to it
I live in it everyday