Notes
When his hair falls in his face
And his hands so cold they shake.
You dye your hands the color blue
You wash your mouth, you pray for truth.
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When his hair falls in his face
And his hands so cold they shake.
You dye your hands the color blue
You wash your mouth, you pray for truth.
1 comment on Bad poetry
oh-blue January 15, 2017
in love w this
⃠