
pain I bring a backpack hanging from my back
A flower that has thorns
A tear of love.
A skirt that there is no corners
A neighborhood
my voice in a sad tone
That stems from my rhyme.
A
hangs I hope the sky that burns me go on strike
Feelings Towards chimera.
A politician who vows to do better nation
A girl with a priest in the room
Sola
Sequels are consequences that hurt my teacher
experience and the instinct of blows that come
I never give up no longer makes sense
believe to be the cutest
And just to be the most hurt
Inspiration
shows me the truth of everyday
A very sinister shadow that hijacks my poetry
hidden in the depths of a light pit
The church and its background
Justified with the cross of Jesus.
write without control, lack of control
live without control, at the foot of alcohol
That's the heart failure if the destination handling
A hand rules us like mules "
A flower that has thorns
A tear of love.
A skirt that there is no corners
A neighborhood
my voice in a sad tone
That stems from my rhyme.
A
hangs I hope the sky that burns me go on strike
Feelings Towards chimera.
A politician who vows to do better nation
A girl with a priest in the room
Sola
Sequels are consequences that hurt my teacher
experience and the instinct of blows that come
I never give up no longer makes sense
believe to be the cutest
And just to be the most hurt
Inspiration
shows me the truth of everyday
A very sinister shadow that hijacks my poetry
hidden in the depths of a light pit
The church and its background
Justified with the cross of Jesus.
write without control, lack of control
live without control, at the foot of alcohol
That's the heart failure if the destination handling
A hand rules us like mules "
0 comments:
Post a Comment