using my fists as weapons and as my shield,
baby come fight me, we can play on the field,
i'll miss your face, after i break it,
but life's short baby, and i know you won't make it.
YOU ARE READING
stars • poetry
Poetry{stars} "she was carried to land from the stars up above where heavenly angels learn about love and although she was grateful her wings began growing a dark faded color that was in its last brewing she had turned on the good and made peace with the...
164.
using my fists as weapons and as my shield,
baby come fight me, we can play on the field,
i'll miss your face, after i break it,
but life's short baby, and i know you won't make it.
