ummm, nothing really to say. my poetrys abit sh*t... alot of it is from when i was younger. |
She was fond of the green-eyed monster,
and how he clung to her dress...
She was fond of the green-eyed monster,
and how he clung to her dress...
I waited for that someone,
who could sweep me off the ground...
Don't stop and think about consequences,
Or repercussions...
Thank god you never knew the me who hated me,
If you think I'm being stroppy...
I can't hold you up,
When I'm feeling this low...
You say you love me; but is it [m.e] you love, or the [s.h.e.l.l] you made me into? |
I never thought I'd have to ask you for a (hand) to lift me up |
Don't ask me if I'm OK. You know what the answer is. |