Often times,
the day doesn't seem as
bright.
The sun doesn't always
shine.
The world's lost it's gift of
sight.
And no one's ever really
fine.
Often times,
nothing at all is
right.
YOU ARE READING
Trust You? Please.
PoetryYou want me to trust you? Not in a million years. You want me to let you in on my secrets? Not over my cold, dead body.
