Wednesday, July 16, 2008
It was one hundred degrees, as we sat beneath a willow tree, Who's tears didn't care, they just hung in the air, and refused to fall, to fall.
it's times like this you ever imagine a world that hate the his smiles the slow clockwork of the world seems to set everything against him a reaction to his every action he cant control the sound and crackle of his voice the shape his facial expression choose to take he seem weak but his only flaw?he tries too hard.thinks too much but fret not go to sleep and see the gentle breeze set plains alive
remember to forget what would happen if this was gotham?
truth to be told i could use a few inspiring articles
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