The world lovingly hates me
the congregation segregates me
But they say the congregation don't hate me
the world been so loving to me
"you were blessed with beauty
you don't own a tear"
a city in white
my life covered in blood
YOU ARE READING
Ouidas' Rose
Poetrya collection of rambles, of shattered letters, of quiet musings and heart throbs that feel like drum drops someone grab my teddy bear so I no longer feel the darkness
