This is the tale of my flustered heart,
A life that's been torn apart
By hands that were built to break,
And throttle me in my own wake.
This is the tale of the little child,
Who used to laugh and always smiled,
Who got slapped to many times,
for writing little poetry rhymes.
A life that's been torn apart
By hands that were built to break,
And throttle me in my own wake.
This is the tale of the little child,
Who used to laugh and always smiled,
Who got slapped to many times,
for writing little poetry rhymes.
.Izzy.
HiddenAngelInTheDark
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