10 views
Before I go...
I notice him,
And the slight awe,
His eyes carry,
Everytime I smile.
It was a May third,
Or maybe fourth of July,
Or was it December already?
I don't know,
For I could feel the cold,
In the bright sun of...
And the slight awe,
His eyes carry,
Everytime I smile.
It was a May third,
Or maybe fourth of July,
Or was it December already?
I don't know,
For I could feel the cold,
In the bright sun of...
