Friday 17 August 2007 photo 2/3
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Your hate for life is like a knife in my chest. I always tried to give you the best. You will never be satisfied if you don’t try. But I can’t see all this times you cry. All alone, on your own cause you don’t want me to see. You have to talk. Have to make me understand. With out your words I get blind. /L - vem lurade jag när jag sa att jag hade ändrats? dina ord är kloka nog. du är en ren poet.
Annons