M'agrada escriure, riure i viure

White lips,
pale face
Breathing in snowflakes
Burnt lungs, sour taste
Light's gone, day's end
Struggling to pay rent
Long nights, strange men

And they say 
he's in the class A team
Stuck in her daydream
Been this way 
since eighteen,
but lately
Her face seems,
slowly sinking, 
wasting Crumbling 
like pastries
And they scream

The worst things in life come free to us
 
-Ed Sheeran