Our life is not a pleasure.
And sometimes you can’t measure
How much we feel the pain
And it’s too often rain.
It’s raining through our own,
The hearts around turn to stone,
But we just no one can to blame
Though pain still burns inside like flame.
For us it’s hard to stay alone
And we are trying to be strong,
But easy our hearts to tame,
For us it is too wicked game.
Our life
© Copyright: Сумеречная Звезда, 2006
Свидетельство о публикации №106022100491
Свидетельство о публикации №106022100491
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