deepundergroundpoetry.com
A Cry
A thorn in heart.
Broken wings, which not fly.
Drowning in sorrow, among the weeping willow tree.
Sobbing among my own grave.
In the bottom of this dark obyss.
Far more better, then a broken promise among, ones heart.
Broken wings, which not fly.
Drowning in sorrow, among the weeping willow tree.
Sobbing among my own grave.
In the bottom of this dark obyss.
Far more better, then a broken promise among, ones heart.
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