When the tress turn grey, and the moon arises, the deadly men and women put on their disguises.
Coming online, they pitter they patter, telling us whatever we do doesn't matter.
Pitter, patter.
No, nothing we do no more matters.
-G.B
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
Poems for thought
PoesiaJust little poems of my creation ! Please don't copy and take as your own work, these poems are sentimental X
