The Root of The Problem

You do it so easly, set my soul on fire, and I end up playing the hand I get, run against the wind, with no expectation to win, you stir in me things that I thought were once gone, I lost what I once wanted, to become what I cannot.    
 •  0 comments  •  flag
Share on Twitter
Published on August 13, 2015 13:36
No comments have been added yet.