You tell me I'm no good.
You chop me up for firewood.
and all the while my thick black smoke bellows through your veins,
Searching, looking for a place to call my own, a cell to make my home.
and it is here I will begin.
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Author:
Yorke (
Offline) - Published: November 23rd, 2015 12:15
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 18
Offline)
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