You pick me up.
You let go and tell me I am a whore.
Then how you call me that when you yourself fuck every girl?
And the spark of light when we're together, was long gone forever.
YOU ARE READING
My Unsaid Words For Years
PoésieLife is full of misery loneliness and suffering .And it's all over much too soon.
38
You pick me up.
You let go and tell me I am a whore.
Then how you call me that when you yourself fuck every girl?
And the spark of light when we're together, was long gone forever.
