It is embicile of me everytime I let you run in my mind.
Indeed, I am embicile all the time.
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YOU ARE READING
Odd Heart
PoetrySometimes life can't be spell That feeling bizarre You never knew who you are Curse everything coz its foul Now that I'm only starting With nervous in chest Stop planning to pick my flowers You're so blind, its roses... ________________________ Poe...
let you run
It is embicile of me everytime I let you run in my mind.
Indeed, I am embicile all the time.