And if I had no living breath
I would save you from your death
But I don't know how it would feel to be blurred
So I chase the animals and poke what stirred
I make a mess and I never clean my guts
If they hate your guts
What's the use keeping them pretty?
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Soul
Poesía"Write something and it might be worthless, Paint something and it might be wordless, Nonsense verses Pointless curses, You'll see purpose start to surface, No one else is dealing with your demon, Meaning defeating them Might be the beginning...
