Monday, June 12

Like a Rose that Grew from Concret.

She's like a rose, that grew from concret.
So beautiful, so discreat.
Damaged pedals.
With love, she'll reach the sun.
She needs you there for.
When her heart beats no more.
When she feels alone.
She tells herself to be cold inside.
And wipe away the tears from her eyes.
Alone she sits there, and cries.
No one even bothers to ask why.
He heart it's torn.
She finds it hard to carry on.
She stops to see what makes her cry.
It's painful, so sad sometimes.
She crys wandering alone in the night.
Trying to find all her dreams before death.
Trying to keep her soul from.
Growing weary, growing old.
Dedicated to her heart.
The feak that lives there, in the dark.
That set us so far apart.


[0] Smoked a Cigarette:

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