Dec 24, 2005 10:13
She's always sorry,
and she walks with her head down.
You don't know what she's thinking
and you'll never know what they do to her when she's alone.
She sits by her window, and watchs birds fly.
She wishes she could be on of them to fly,
and get away from all the things she's gronw to hate,
but maybe she won't live to be like them.
Leave a comment
Comments 1
rawr. :)
Reply
Leave a comment