She now lays on her bed
Knowing roses are red
Even though she lost her pride
At least she got a ride.
She keeps trying to die
But she still rise
On ice
So she runs in miles
In her hands filled with files
So i guess is time to roll the dice
She might get something nice
Even though fate isn't nice
All the time
We can still change them
It just takes time.
YOU ARE READING
maybe tomorrow
PoetryThis book is about some mistakes we make and some random things that get into my head
