He throws clovers at my feet,
He knows nothing about me.
I walk on by him on the streets,
our ways won't intersect.
at the instance, i was sick,
craving waters from the creek
he was a god of.
now if he ask me what i seek,
i want nada.
nada
© Copyright: Неттер Линг, 2024
Свидетельство о публикации №124090403986
Свидетельство о публикации №124090403986
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